BZPRPG - Kentoku Archipelago

[Visaru]

IC- Oshi

 

The statement of 'Dragons' immediately drew the Menti's attention, who looked at Kagesu with her head tilted, hoping for more information.

Edited April 13, 2014 by Visaru

[Ghosthands]

IC (Kilanya)

 

Kilanya frowned hard at the room beyond the divide, particularly the altar and the dilapidated device. Something about it set her on edge.

 

"I don't know," she said, and stared briefly at the slits, then raised her Soulsword meaningfully as she looked back to Kulrik, "but I suppose it's worth a try...?"

 

 

 

IC: Eiyu Ankora (Gotsoko's Study)

"Kesari was an eccentric one...insisted on having her books inscribed on materials related to the subject matter. For your own sake, Kwaiya, I hope you never have reason to consult her maps of the city's sewer network..."

 

"Without a doubt the most pointless book since "How to Speak Vulgar Taa" was translated... into Vulgar Taa" Ankora agreed with a nod as Kwaiya rejoined them.

Gotsoko continued with a quint little ditty on knowledge that left Ankora bemused, though she didn't show it.

"Knowledge for knowledge's sake" she summarized, "don't we all want that to be the actual reason?"

 

 

IC (Gotsoko)

 

"A sentiment I agree with," Gotsoko replied, with a nod and a smile. "I would opine, indeed, that knowledge is its own sake."

 

Once again, there was a wry twinkle in her eye.

 

"But then again, as Lorekeeper, I am horribly biased."

 

The Datsue lifted the top sheet of paper from her pile: it bore the summary of her notes so far.

 

"Now, let us set about obtaining that knowledge...Kwaiya," she addressed the assistant, peering at her over her spectacles, "how much do you know of pre-Empire history? It is taught little these days, and I can understand why, even if I do not entirely approve."

Edited April 14, 2014 by Geisthande

[Krayzikk]

IC:

 

Kagesu waited for the Menti's astonished explanation to quiet, waited until the very last sounds faded away, before she spoke again. She nodded slightly, standing from her former seat, and stretching slightly.

 

"Yes. My clan has long had a fascination with the dragons, though not quite in the same way as most of our people. Evidently we were not alone in that, as my Toroshu had relatively little trouble gathering a group." She paused again, surveying the two present. "We needed Menti, of course. Both for defense and for other matters of practicality. We needed Eiyu representatives, to be able to bring back first hand accounts. And we needed someone who might be able to speak with them."

 

"Thus, we have myself, our comrade from the Fursics," She gestured politely towards Oshi. "And our translator from the Ageru. We have one more member, but my other half is out and about somewhere."

[Toa Fanixe]

IC:

 

"Why not?"

 

Kulrik raised his Soulsword, and both he and Kilanya simultaneously slid their psychic weapons into the slots.

 

Nothing happened.

 

"Maybe we have to turn them, like a real key?" Kulrik offered.

 

Both Daska began to try to turn, putting as much weight as they could behind their efforts. Slowly, the slots rotated clockwise, although it was gruesome work. Crystal or metal blades would have broken or bent from the stress, another curiosity for the First Son.

 

Once the slits reached a horizontal position there was loud crack followed by a series of groans. The portion of the crystal wall that blocked their entry depressed slightly, then began to move to the side. Kulrik and Kilanya hurridly allowed their Soulswords to dissipate, then rushed into the room. The air was stale as if it had been trapped inside the crystal bubble for centuries, but it was breathable. The Dasaka walked around the room, examining in greater detail. It certain included some living quarters, the bare minimum anyways.

 

Kulrk knelt by the strange device they'd seen from the outside. Even broken it looked terribly complex, an intricate system of crystal and wires - metal wires - that now lay in ruin. It must have been expensive and useful; it was a wonder why a thing of such wealth would have been purposefully destroyed.

 

They heard a loud groaning again, and both Kulrik and Kilanya turned their necks towards the entrance. The wall that had moved to give them entry had shifted again, returning to its original position. Kulrik ran over and slammed a fist against the crystal, but it was too late. It had closed, and as Kulrik looked down, he saw there were no slits on this side of the divide. If they were going to live, they would have to find another exit.

 

Now, Toroshu and First Son approached the altar, the one aspect of the room they had yet to investigate.

 

It was big and rectangular, corners cut flawlessly, large enough to fit the tallest (and fattest) Dasaka and was raised just below waist-high for Kulrik. It was spotlessly clean, besides for the layer of dust that had accumulated throughout the room. On of the shorts sides a block of crystal rose up, like an exaggerated bed post. Atop it was sheathe, blade tucked within, and a small line of text engraved beside it. Kulrik ignored it, picking up the sheathe. It was surprisingly heavy. He withdrew the blade, then stopped. A quiet whispering filled the room, barely audible, but Kulrik was sure he could hear. He raised a questioning eyebrow at Kilanya.

 

She nodded. The Ageru Toroshu could hear it too.

 

Kurik, with both his hands, raised the sword high above his head before examining it closer.

 

It was a crystal broadsword, but unlike any he'd known before. Almost all blades and utensils were made of clear crystal, but this weapon was riddled with imperfections, hundreds or thousands of them within it's bowels and obscuring the image on the other side. There were only a handful of spots through which Kulrik could see clearly through, but they obviously the exception to the rule. There was also a pale oval stone completely envelopped by the sword, roughly midway up the blade. Kulrik could barely glimpse it through the countless blemishes that surrounded it.

 

The Vilda male swung the sword through the air once, then twice. It was far heavier than it looked, and felt almost alien in the hands of warrior that regularly fought with a weightless Soulsword. Kulrik rapped the blade lightly against the crystal altar on which it had lain.

 

The stone pulsed red, blood light surging through the blade and outwards, bathing the immeadiate surroundings in a crimson tone.

 

:THE:

 

The word squeezed itself into every corner of his mind, overcoming any and all mental barriers Kulrik had. It was unbearable, a might greater than any he'd every known. It was like an ocean of power had just been crammed into small, insignficant being and he was helpless to over come it. He dropped to one knee it utter pain and agony.

 

:Children:

 

Lights danced across his vision and there was a loud popping sound in his ears as his senses railed against the intruding force. Kulrik was no longer sure if his head was attached to his body; it certainly didn't like it. Numbness flowed across his limbs like a tidal wave upon the shore, his arms drooping to floor. Kulrik tried to see past the veil of colors and sounds that flooded his vision. He thought saw Kilanya, battleing to remain upright like himself. Kulrik's head swiveled downward. The blade's sheath was on the floor by his feat.

 

:OF:

 

Kulrik struggled to move his arm and the sword it held. They felt as heavy as mountains, immovable as Mt. Oshi or the Rora's will. Still Kulrik strained, but for naught. The awesome force was too great, and now his every nerve burned in pain. Then, for a few precious seconds Kulrik thought the power was starting to subside, and he managed to twist his hand an inch. Two. Three. The blade was lined up with the sheath now.

 

:Zataka:

 

The power gushed anew, crushing his mind even further. Thoughts, emotions and feeling were swept out of his mind as this fourth word set itself over him. Everything grew so much worse. He wanted to cry, to scream, to fight back, but he could not. He could do nothing as darkness embraced him and tugged him within itself. Then Kulrik, First Son of the Vilda, pushed the blade back into it's sheath, and all grew quiet...

 

 

 

 

...

 

 

Later, Kulrik and Kilanya were walking through another tunnel, silent as their minds were raw and weary. After they'd woken the pair had searched through the books in crystal dome. They were all logbooks, written in code, but among them Kilanya had found a map, complete with a set of instructions. It had detailed instructions on how to open a second door, and showed that this new tunnel led all the way to Mahuika hall, to a deep and rarely used storeroom. Through it both Dasaka made their way now, eager to reach the surface.

 

Kulrik spoke. Not about what occured or what they'd seen; that could wait until later, much later. No, he spoke about something far more important. Careful not to speak too loudly, their senses still recovering from the onslaught, he whispered.

 

"Do you think your chefs would have pie ready? I would really love some pie. I'd be absolutely indebted to you and the Ageru if I could have some pie."

 

The First Son shifted his shoulder, readjusting the sword he had strapped to his back.

[Vezok's Friend]

IC (Ayiwah):

 

A pleased look spread on the commodore's face as she turned and saw the first mate approaching from the gates, the green headband clearly visible. She did not allow herself the genuine, happy smile she felt like giving upon spotting her best friend, it simply wasn't the right place for that. But that didn't stop her from replying to the mental call with good vibes. She descended the stairs and met the lieutenant at their foot.

 

:Taz! Perfect timing, as usual.:

 

It was true. Ayiwah wasn't quite sure how she managed it, but Tazera had a talent for finishing her tasks in just the amount of time she needed to take care of her other obligations. Still, she couldn't resist a little jab every now and then.

 

:I hope you have good news for me? Or did the Menti give you the slip?: she telepathically joked, while they outwardly exchanged the formal salute.

Edited April 15, 2014 by Smaug the Terrible

[AuRon the champion]

IC

 

Herupa Jiyu. While he currently sat in a room on his clan’s complex, made to detain individuals during an investigation, or some sort of felony. In Jiyu’s case, it was small, cramped, and mostly irritable. But it gave him some time to think before he was freed and he began to ascend.

 

Which was certainly on his mind.

 

The Umbralines were certainly a concern for his plans… A male Toroshu had been unheard of for a long time, and they’d probably object to his rise. He could easily turn the tables on them, saying that their clan broke tradition when they usurped control from the males of old… But that wouldn’t work. They’re too “old and honorable” to get their feathers fluffed by that…

 

He could only hope that other clans would support him. The Fursics perhaps? Maybe their first son… Maybe almost all the First Sons… But in a world where the male was considered inferior, it would be foolish to try to rally the First Sons beneath him. No, either they’d accept his ascension…

 

Or he would have to step down. Jiyu shuddered at the thought. He’d spent so long trying to get this far. Years of training, years of waiting, years of silently pulling strings to ensure that he’d be here at this moment. Well, not exactly in a cramped holding cell… No, there was only one true option left if he was denied.

 

He would pick the next Toroshu. And he would begin with haste once he was freed. Which, Jiyu knew couldn’t take long. There could be no evidence. He couldn’t have maneuvered correctly enough in his aunt’s quarters to fatally stab her, she was certainly old, certainly close to her sister, they weren’t overheard by anyone… And above all, now no-one knew of what he was capable of. Speaking of evidence…

 

He heard the footsteps approach. The guard’s keys jingled along with her steps, her staff-end tapping the ground as she walked. When she approached, she watched the cramped red giant silently for a moment, before opening her mouth to speak to him.

 

“Herupa Jiyu, you are to be released. The guards found nothing to implicate you in the suicide Herupa Zola. You are free to go, apologies on detaining you, First Son,” The guard said, opening the cell door to him, and allowed the giant to go free. Jiyu stretched as soon as he left the cell, before re-attaining his spear from the guards, and proceeding back to his rooms. While it was close to midday, Jiyu was weary, and he had little sleep from being cooped up inside that cell for the duration of the night. Just as he was prepared to enter into the building that housed the Toroshu’s family, a messenger approached him, sprinting quickly.

 

“Herupa Jiyu!” She called out, quickly running up to him, panting softly before bowing respectfully, “Apologies for the rudeness, but I was ordered here as quickly as I could… These are for you and the Toroshu.”

 

The sprinter handed him two scrolls, which Jiyu gently took with a nod. The messanger was Umbraline, which meant it was a summons of some sort. Jiyu opened up the scroll that was noted for the First Son, and smiled behind his mask. It was an invitation. To a party. How pleasant.

 

“Thank you for bringing these to me,” Jiyu said, “I’d like you to please inform the Royalty that both the First Son, and the Toroshu, of clan Herupa will be attending this spectacular event.”

 

Once the Messenger had gone off, Jiyu entered the building. His mother had been taken away the night prior, as well as his aunt, to be prepared for their funerals. Jiyu had wept crocodile tears. He had to. For after all, he had no love of them.

 

‘But enough of that,’ He thought, looking at the invitation again. Hanako would be there. And it would be after his mother and aunt’s funeral. By then the elders would be forced to name the next Toroshu to the clan…

 

And Jiyu would have to begin to lay plans. Even if he wasn’t allowed to ascend, he could still influence the clan elders that picked the next Toroshu… And if he could do that, he could still decide which of Eshiwa’s children would become Toroshu.

 

This party would be the crossroads of fate, the one that decided wether or not Jiyu would ascend to his true destiny…

Or have his ambitions finally thwarted by the choking serpent that is the traditions of the Umbraline.

[Emzee]

IC: Sesseta – Back room of Sesseta’s house in Kozu; the next day

 

I stood before a grandiose chalkboard, decorated with dust and scribbles of plan after plan – all connected to enigmas and research. No – regrettably, penmanship was never one of my top specialties. Writing within the mind was easy, and to spread its words to the public only required a tongue – an instrument that was fairly close to the mind. But for an unknown reason, the acts of transferring my intricate diction down my arm, through my hand, and into my piece of chalk came bound with impedance to where the words came out alright, but none of the careful movements that came with good handwriting did. I found this odd considering my earlier espionage days required a high level of subtle, artful movements – even within the fingers.

 

Though to be fair, this mess I look at on my chalkboard could also be a subconscious ploy of obstruction. Quite an eerie feeling to have a brain that is smarter than you are – so to speak.

 

After a few minutes of looking over the diagrams and words which littered across the chalkboard, I sighed, placed the piece of chalk down on the ledge, and reached instead for the eraser. I would need to change a large portion of this plan.

 

I could see now that I would need more time, if I were called upon to step in upon Kuno’s failure.

 

And, of course, the boy would fail. He always struggled with the intricate details of how people work. Simple things, he could pull off just fine. Subtle persuasion would be understandably challenging. We’re talking about the ability to intimately perceive not just the person you’re persuading, but that person’s peers, enemies, or anyone said person interacts with. An idea must be so strong that will spread like a virus, and that requires knowing what every person involved will do given a set of variables.

 

Such skill and knowledge takes much contemplation, research, and charisma – more of it than what Kuno possesses.

 

Of course, Zuto Nui knows how long Nera will tolerate his blunderings before calling me in. The pride of Nera saying to herself that her own son accomplished this feat, and not merely her younger sister, is likely worth the cost.

 

*KNOCK* *KNOCK*

 

I whirled around facing the door as I was thrown out of my deep thought. For a planning room, one might have been surprised at how neat and organized everything around me was. Papers were not stacked, but filed and locked away. All chalk pieces were lined up by color and sitting inside one of the drawers on the oak desk that stood directly in between me and the door. All of the books that I owned were stacked on shelves sitting on both walls to the sides of me, and the only prominent feature of the stone wall that I was facing was the featureless door.

 

In a continuous motion, I grabbed the lone white chalk piece and the eraser from the ledge of the chalkboard and spun the board down, so that my work was now upside-down and facing the crystal wall behind me. I set the eraser and chalk within a second drawer and called out to whom I assumed was Yuzio, my Herupa handmaiden.

 

Yuzio was a young woman of average height and petite build. Despite all the chores that she would do, the Dasaka was still not quite as physically active as me. In all fairness, I would be most interested in meeting a Dasaka my age who was as physically active as me. The navy blue mask that she wore matched the shape of the chōjo’s mask, and her armor was generally all navy blue with some gold highlights around her chest and shoulder armor.

 

“Who is it?” I asked. Even though I was pretty sure it was Yuzio, I was always sure to verify beforehand, analyzing the sound of timbre of her voice (I was especially aware of just how my handmaiden sounded).

 

“Yuzio, ma’am,” the familiar voice of my handmaiden responded, “I have been asked to deliver this note to you”

 

I walked around the desk, slapping my hands together to get some of the chalk off of them. After quickly unlocking the door, I opened it to see Yuzio standing with a note that I instantly recognized as one coming from Sado.

 

“Interesting,” I noted, taking the note from Yuzio. Wasting no time, I opened the seal and read the inscription:

 

*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*• [OMG IMAGINE ALL THE GREAT AND FANCY DECORATIONS THAT ARE NOT ACTUALLY HERE] •*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*

By the command of

Her Imperial Highness the Chōjo, Umbraline Yumiwa

The presence of your person and a guest is cordially requested for a festive night of refreshment and conviviality in

the Dragon Hall of the Imperial Palace on the second day following the full moon.

This note permits admittance.

Addendum: Please dress in masquerade.

*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*• [iF A PRINCE HAS NO LAND BUT A REALLLLLY NICE SWORD IS HE STILL A GOOD MATCH?] •*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*

 

“Hmm,” I pondered out loud. This party would be happening soon. I wondered if I would be able to conference with Nera before then. This could turn into a great opportunity, but only if we planned ahead. I naturally assumed that she and Kuno had also received invites – surely they were already cooking some something intricate.

 

“There will be a party at the Imperial Palace on the second day following the full moon,” I said to Yuzio, handing back the note, “Please make sure my schedule remains clear for that time. That will be all”

 

“Yes, Sesseta. Thank you” Yuzio said. She did a bow before turning around and walking back down the stone hallway.

[Hanako Herupa]

OOC: This jam was brought to you by Jenny Quantum, Spirit of the Twenty-First Century, LONG LIVE TYLER, the guy with unlimited swag and class, and me! Nia Teppelin, Daughter to Lord Genome! :3

 

IC:

 

As far the expedition went while many could go in our stead, Yumi and I would continue to cultivate a positive, diplomatic image of which the Yumi had already started. Personally I think the team would need to be small, a Menti too many and it would look like we were intending military occupation. Instead if we kept the expedition force small, and concentrated without compromising security at home, things should run smoothly. Now though Yumi wanted to start with the investigation of the assassin and her death, I was more concerned about seeing the body, and getting a second look to determine cause of death, but checking the cell first couldn't hurt either.

 

"Of course Yumi, though I feel examining the corpse of our would-be assassin ourselves might show us more, in case something was missed the first time through. However, the place of death is also interesting, I do hope both ventures will yield results. So we can solve this mystery soon." If our investigation was to start tonight, we would be heading to dungeon's where our assassin was jailed and then died, but not by any of Yusanora's warriors. Someone was tying up a loose end. The last thing this investigation needed was for the trail to run cold this early.

 

"Yeah," I agreed. "The cells and the medical centres are both below the Gardens, though, so it won't take us too far at all out of the way." I figured my girls would want to check the body out but I was more interested in the scene of the crime. What if there was something left behind, a telltale poisoned jewel or some sign of struggle from a tormented soul, and I strode forward with my trademark casual authority.

Inokio taught me once to look at the details, now obviously a precursor lesson to today's earlier grand scheme of things nugget of wisdom. However unlikely to exist, even the smallest clue of anything was important to me. Of course I also felt it important to ask the guards what, if anything, they saw after the death. Since it happened sometime in the night prior whoever was on duty then would be back on the job for this graveyard shift.

We continued our walk to the Gardens, and I mulled over the information I had, to be honest though I'm not sure if my observant and analytic nature was something I choose, or something I had been trained to do, felt like it was training. I was naturally fiery, that's what my mother always said, but my family, my clan, the Herupa used my flame to fuel my training, and now I was the highly skilled, and hyper-focused servant of my lady, Yumi. I was also her friend, and I would support her, I was juggling all the thoughts, from Yumi's plans for the party, to expedition, and now this.

"Well it would won't be long until we reach the cell, maybe we'll be able to glean at least a sliver of information on our assassin and the one who gave them their mission."

It's the root of the crime that interests me the most, though most specifically it's whether or not the Fursics had anything to do with it. I wasn't going to come up with any predetermined explanations but it was an answer I always had to keep in the back of my head. The future of the empire relied on peace in the realm and history had a clear impression of the Fursic legacy—my mind had to be open to the possibility.

Turning to my prodigy of a sister I sought her general opinion. "Desde, you've been able to think about this case for a while now. What are your thoughts?"

She was pulled out of her thoughts roughly; Yumiwa's voice was a bullwhip on her wrist, yanking Desdemona from the most intimate, lock-and-key corners of her mind and memories into the Gardens, to be a real girl once again. The sensory overload washed over the frail girl with the intensity of blows to the head. The moon's tendrils shone and swirled in the pouch of crystal spheres around her neck - cool air brushed her face tenderly, like the fingers of their mother, and Princess Desdemona Umbraline grinned for a second at the simple, rare pleasure of being alive, out and about on a night like this.

The moment was as fleeting as the wind that was its prelude; the siren song of birds and breeze wound down its refrain, and again the oddity stood in her shoes, awaiting the click of a locking tower door.

"Desde? Thoughts?"

Blink blink. Absurdly, Desdemona thought she could actually hear the sound of eyelids opening and shutting; they sounded like the wings of ladybugs, deploying and retracting. Life will have to wait, I'm afraid. Sister comes first.

"I would be taken off guard if someone attempted poisoning or strangulation," she hypothesized softly, falling in step behind her sister. The wind had carried with it a ghastly chill, and Desdemona had never been one for sudden gusts, but curling up to the crown princess for warmth would have implied an affection beyond Yumi's station or desire. She is Yumiwa Umbraline, heir to Yusanora, she is the chojo and future Rora of all the Archipelago, and she is a girl on a mission. Sometimes, though, when her hands couldn't cover her arms and she couldn't curl into a tight enough ball to stop from feeling chilly, she wished that all of that would go away so that Yumi could be just be her sister instead; but that was a bitter and jealous thought, and fleeting as the wind. "It's clumsy - almost as clumsy as a dagger in the grip of an untrained handmaiden. If we can look for subtle tells - a capsized chair, a little body language - we can see if a Menti discipline is the root of the assassination. It's a decent opportunity for an initial lead."

 

"So, uh," I started and cast a nervous glance towards both Hana and Desde, "I hate to be the one to bring it up, but do we have an identity of the handmaiden in question?" I said in a rising pitch then smothered my voice to a whisper. "And is she a Herupa or Eiyu?" If the former than maybe there are links Hana can navigate better than my sister and I, and if the latter then it's all the easier since the Eiyu have always been small.

 

"A Herupa. The courtier has had Mother's ear for some time now, and her advice is rarely anything but prudent. I've done some digging, and the handmaiden is a cousin to the one that serves the Hogo. Just enough blood ties to get her close to her target, but otherwise no notable affiliation." Desdemona was quiet for a second to let the information she had attained seep into her sister and the handmaiden, and then smiled wryly, as if the entire scenario were some keen joke. "She's the kind of person I would pick to do a job like this - if I were still a child, and had the finesse of a crystal club to the side of the head. Through picking someone so anonymous, it's all but obvious there was a scheme at play here. It's almost enough to disappoint me, sister; I've spent so long trapped in the closet that I was almost hoping for a real plot."

 

"Hana, honey..." I murmured and wrapped my arm around her shoulders to comfort her. "She was from your clan. That has to make you feel something." My girl's always tried to be above distractions emotions that could set her back from serving me, but this was unheard of. Clan Herupa had always been regal and neutral, dedicated to assisting their masters through peace and self-defense. Assassination? That was a new, disturbing low, and one Hana was bound to be impacted by. She may be my handmaiden but she was also a daughter of the toroshu. This had to mean something to her.

 

"What do I feel? That I will drag the traitor behind this to receive the Umbraline's judgment." I replied, my tone still even, and cold. Assassination was not something Herupa were supposed to do, while our combat training might have made us capable ones, one agreeing to assassinate a member of the royal family was unforgivable...but as much as the assassin made me angry, the one who had used their servant as such, for something so low, so despicable, that was a person I'd drag behind my horse into the courtyard, because as much as I would like to administer the pain for that, it was the Rora who would decide the sentence, not me.

 

I squeezed Hana more tightly at her blurt. Our bond was closer than close, we were like crystals of the same formation and when one had an emotion it reflected on the other. I may have had a distant relative threatened, but Hana was betrayed by a clan sister—and it took it's toll on my dear.

 

I glanced up at Desde and we exchanged knowing looks with a curt, assured nod. "I'm sure our uncle will dispense the Rora's justice well." He always did. Rayuke wasn't the Royal Executioner in title alone; his steel was always sharp and quick. "But alright now. We have to catch the villain first. Desde, lead the way to the cells."

"What, all three of us?"

Yumiwa stopped and turned back to her sister, almost incredulously; Desde shrugged, standing her ground, and looked back at Hana with a gentle smile.

"There were guards around the cell. Willhammers," she reminded her sister. "They didn't pick up any presences in the cells - like we said, she just sort of...died. Maybe it wasn't in the cells? What if someone was out here?"

"She died in the cell," I maintained evenly. "That's why I want to check it out." I swear, it was like Desde was in a rush to check out the morgue...

 

"Yeah," Desde conceded patiently. "I'm just asking what if the killer was in the Garden? Think about it: unless it was one of our courtiers, how would anyone get this far into the dungeon complex? Depending on skill, what if a Willhammer could breach the handmaiden's mind? I'm the best Willhammer here. I'll stay out here, you guys check out the cell, and then we'll bounce our minds back and forth and see if it's possible. It would totally explain the lack of visible cause of death or any markings."

 

Willhammering through several stories of ground, medical levels and into the cells seemed unlikely, though it was still a possibility I wasn't going to rule out, especially considering how mighty Desde's powers were in particular. She brought up a useful point and the idea would kill two birds with one mental burst. "That's fine by me," I said. "I'll hear from you soon."

 

I didn't say anything, Yumi had already said what I was going to say anyways. No need filling the air with useless sound. Instead I turned my thoughts inward, getting my emotions back in check. Silent, focused as I was Desde and Yumi could see the pain write all over me. The way I stood, the way I spoke it carried that angry air. I am better than that, to be controlled by my emotions, by the fire. No, I would keep the fire under control, and I would direct such fury towards the one responsible. I lead Yumi to the cells, occasionally scanning the area to ensure her safety, even though we were in the Royal Palace my guard would never drop, that is the reality of bodyguard, of a handmaiden such as I.

Edited April 16, 2014 by Nia Teppelin

[25K Now!]

IC: Amaki

 

Amaki wandered the marketplace streets, wondering on what she should eat.

 

OOC: Open for interaction.

[Ghosthands]

IC:

 

Kagesu waited for the Menti's astonished explanation to quiet, waited until the very last sounds faded away, before she spoke again. She nodded slightly, standing from her former seat, and stretching slightly.

 

"Yes. My clan has long had a fascination with the dragons, though not quite in the same way as most of our people. Evidently we were not alone in that, as my Toroshu had relatively little trouble gathering a group." She paused again, surveying the two present. "We needed Menti, of course. Both for defense and for other matters of practicality. We needed Eiyu representatives, to be able to bring back first hand accounts. And we needed someone who might be able to speak with them."

 

"Thus, we have myself, our comrade from the Fursics," She gestured politely towards Oshi. "And our translator from the Ageru. We have one more member, but my other half is out and about somewhere."

 

IC (Enali)

 

'Translator from the Ageru'...wait, what? She was the translator? Enali was struck by Kagesu's words. The Toroshu had said she was supposed to be their guide in Ageru lands - now she was being told her role was to talk to dragons?

 

The young Menti sat down as her mind came to terms with the situation. It was a terrifying thought...but then she realised that the jittery feeling building in her stomach was not fear. No, despite the great danger the expedition posed, Enali was excited. She was going on an adventure! She and her new Eiyu friends were going to go places nobody had gone before, learn things nobody had learned before...and dragons!!!

 

"When do we start?" Enali asked eagerly, adding curiously, "And what do you mean by your 'other half'?"

 

 

IC (Ayiwah):

 

A pleased look spread on the commodore's face as she turned and saw the first mate approaching from the gates, the green headband clearly visible. She did not allow herself the genuine, happy smile she felt like giving upon spotting her best friend, it simply wasn't the right place for that. But that didn't stop her from replying to the mental call with good vibes. She descended the stairs and met the lieutenant at their foot.

 

:Taz! Perfect timing, as usual.:

 

It was true. Ayiwah wasn't quite sure how she managed it, but Tazera had a talent for finishing her tasks in just the amount of time she needed to take care of her other obligations. Still, she couldn't resist a little jab every now and then.

 

:I hope you have good news for me? Or did the Menti give you the slip?: she telepathically joked, while they outwardly exchanged the formal salute.

 

 

IC (Tazera)

 

:Give me the slip, Aya?: Tazera replied sardonically as she returned the salute. :Ha, it'll take more than some half-baked Menti to escape me.:

 

She approached the Commodore, and handed her the slip of paper.

 

"All the requested intel, ma'am," she said, snappy and formal on the verbal plane. "What's our situation now?"

 

 

Later, Kulrik and Kilanya were walking through another tunnel, silent as their minds were raw and weary. After they'd woken the pair had searched through the books in crystal dome. They were all logbooks, written in code, but among them Kilanya had found a map, complete with a set of instructions. It had detailed instructions on how to open a second door, and showed that this new tunnel led all the way to Mahuika hall, to a deep and rarely used storeroom. Through it both Dasaka made their way now, eager to reach the surface.

 

Kulrik spoke. Not about what occured or what they'd seen; that could wait until later, much later. No, he spoke about something far more important. Careful not to speak too loudly, their senses still recovering from the onslaught, he whispered.

 

"Do you think your chefs would have pie ready? I would really love some pie. I'd be absolutely indebted to you and the Ageru if I could have some pie."

 

The First Son shifted his shoulder, readjusting the sword he had strapped to his back.

 

 

IC (Kilanya)

 

Kilanya was troubled, and not just from the mental ordeal she had shared with the First Son. Not only had there been some mysterious presence beneath her lands, there was a tunnel leading directly into her very own castle's cellars that she had not known about. She made a mental note to station a guard at its opening.

 

The Toroshu sighed. Kulrik's greatest worry, of course, was his next meal. To be honest, though, in her exhaustion the thought of a good slice of pie was welcome. And lo and behold, as they came up from the cellars, what smell greeted them?

 

"I think the kitchens are ahead of you, Kulrik," she said, unable to stop herself from smiling at the warm, meaty aroma of the Ringti cooks' work.

 

***

A few minutes later, Kilanya and Kulrik were seated at a wooden table in a small dining room. A fire burned merrily in the hearth, providing the two Dasaka's aching limbs with comforting warmth as they tucked into two steaming portions of the finest Ageru pie. Within the golden crust was tucked a mouth-watering variety of vegetables interspersed with tender chunks of meat, almost swimming in gravy.

 

Understandably, they both dropped much of their decorum as they demolished the delicious meal.

 

Kilanya lay back in her chair, wiping the last of the gravy from her mouth with a napkin.

 

"Well," she said, allowing herself some hard-earned languidness, "today's certainly been more interesting than expected."

Edited April 17, 2014 by Geisthande

[Vezok's Friend]

IC:

 

:No doubt.: the commodore replied. It was just a bit harmless of banter, but she was thankful that she had a confidante that she could share it with. She knew Tazera probably felt the same, but neither of the two women let it show through. Quite the opposite really: To anybody passing by the two were hard-faced officers in full uniform, discussing new orders.

 

Ayiwah held out the letter with said orders to her first mate so that she could read them and said: "We're going have dry feet for some time. We are being reassigned."

 

Tazera slightly raised an eyebrow but Ayiwah knew this had to be as much of a surprise as it had been to her. The lieutenant's eyes narrowed as she quickly read the Rora's instructions. Then she looked back up at the commodore. "An expedition of such scope will require quite a few more supplies and crew than the first one." Ayiwah nodded in agreement. Tazera glanced down at the orders once more.

 

"The orders do not mention a number of required sailors." she stated.

 

"Nor the vessel's name." Ayiwah added and continued: "Since it is still under construction and unchristened, we will have to determine the appropriate crew size and logistics of the mission ourselves. I intend to begin with these tasks first thing tomorrow morning. 06:00 at the dry dock."

 

Taz nodded, but before she could ask any more questions she spotted another person approaching. She was a Menti in the garb of the royal guard, polearm in one hand and a sealed letter in the other. She respectfully bowed and Ayiwah and Tazera returned the gesture with a tilt of the head. The royal guards were not part of the naval forces unless assigned as marine detachments in wartime and as such, no proper salute was necessary.

 

"Commodore; Lieutenant. I was asked to deliver you this on behalf of her highness, crown princess Yumiwa." the guard said, handing over the envelope to Ayiwah, who took it. It had a royal seal on it, but the embellishments looked far fancier than on other official lettering. The guard waited until the commodore had studied the letter, in case she required any further information, but only a second later she dismissed her with a nod. Curious about what the chojo wanted from her now, Ayiwah broke the seal as the guard walked away to return to her original post.

 

The paper inside the envelope was far thicker than that for standard correspondence as well and she realized that this was an invitation. Ayiwah flipped it open and read:

 

 

*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*• [OMG IMAGINE ALL THE GREAT AND FANCY DECORATIONS THAT ARE NOT ACTUALLY HERE] •*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*

By the command of

Her Imperial Highness the Chōjo, Umbraline Yumiwa

The presence of your person and a guest is cordially requested for a festive night of refreshment and conviviality in

the Dragon Hall of the Imperial Palace on the second day following the full moon.

This note permits admittance.

Addendum: Please dress in masquerade.

*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*• [iF A PRINCE HAS NO LAND BUT A REALLLLLY NICE SWORD IS HE STILL A GOOD MATCH?] •*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*

She read the message a second time and blinked, before looking over the addendum once more, just to be sure. :Oh no.:

:What is it?: Taz replied. Ayiwah wordlessly passed her the invitation. The Lieutenant read it, then looked back at her friend, who had slipped back into serious command mode, at least as far as her expression was concerned. On the inside, the commanding officer of the Rora's nautical forces suddenly felt very much out of her element.

"I assume you do have an appropriate casual masquerade dress for such an occasion, Lieutenant?"

:Because I absolutely don't.:

Edited April 17, 2014 by Smaug the Terrible

[Krayzikk]

IC:

 

"Masuyo."

 

The Menti replied before pausing, as if realizing that the one word wasn't a comprehensive enough explanation. She was quiet a moment longer, pondering how to state her explanation, before sighing. "Masuyo's a friend of mine, and when we're working, partner too. It's... A bit complex to explain without explaining a bit of the Eiyu philosophy. In short, that's who she is, and I can tell she's nearby. She just isn't here this very moment."

 

"As for when we leave, we're leaving as soon as everyone is ready."

[Void Emissary]

IC:

 

Earlier that morning, a Saihoko had been butchered; another perfect day in Sado.

 

In the Wards, another Saihoko sat in her office, bought and converted from the apartment below hers, pouring over ledgers and letters. Cigarette propped between her lips and a cup of tea steaming beside her, this one was very much alive, no matter how much the nobles and the Menti and the royal ###### Umbraline family would find that improper. She was surrounded by shelves and tables of books and papers, all neatly arranged into piles and rows. Order; one of the less contemptible virtues.

 

"Ahem."

 

She glanced up, focusing her gaze on the speaker, another Saihoko, standing across the desk with a massive book cradled in her arms.

 

"Daijuno," she said in a quiet voice, "I could be wrong, but I've been going over these numbers for last quarter's sales, and I can't help but feel that demand has been sliding ever since the Rora started commissioning--"

 

"Started commissioning the development of submersibles, yes," Daijuno finished, cigarette still gripped between her teeth. "With the royals and the Toroshu trying to hoard all of that metal for these explorations of theirs, interest in timber's been sinking faster than the Fursics's approval ratings. Pitiable, for sure; but hardly unpredictable. And what with that Menti running around, trying to stir up bloodlust against the Chaotic Six--"

 

"Not just the Chaotic Six, miss," the other Saihoko said, "but the rest of their kind as well."

 

Daijuno raised an eyebrow. "Seriously? Goddess help us, are these people blind? Why on earth would you exterminate a potentially valuable resource just for the sake of revenge.... Zyla, are you okay? You've got that look, you know."

 

"No I haven't," Zyla said, before hesitating. "It's just ... I suppose I understand why what's-her-name would do it. What they did to her sister..."

 

"Of couuuuurse, of course," the smoker said amidst a yawn and stretch. "You know me well enough to know that even I'm not that callous. But the fact remains that butchering an entire race won't be bringing her back to the land of sane people; ######, it'll probably just start another war. Though, at least it'll probably take place over there...

 

"But anyway," Daijuno continued, putting out her cigarette and taking a sip of tea, "we've got more immediate concerns, now don't we? For starters, replanting season's coming up, and we still don't have enough room to sow a good yield; not unless the Ageru are willing to give up more of their land, or the Vilda suddenly realize that they're wasting their time on Oki. Zyla, pass me my coat, won't you?"

 

Soon enough, the Saihoko was wrapped up in deep navy and yellow trim, and was in the process of tying her scarf. "Hmm, perhaps Ageru is our best bet; less likely to paint to a big, beautiful target on our backs then the Vilda, Goddess only knows. Yeah, that seems good. Zyla, I need you write up a letter to Toroshu what's-her-name, Kilanya or something, and let her know that I'd like to arrange a meeting, preferably sometime this week. One for clan Mamoru as well, I'd like to discuss some business with their Toroshu, whatever the ###### her name is. Goddess, there are too many clans around here!"

 

"Mamoru?" Zyla asked, collecting her employer's discarded papers. "What would we want with them?"

 

Daijuno grinned, "Oh, you know how it is; just keeping up friendly relations."

 

"I never thought I would hear the words 'friendly relations' come out of your mouth, miss..."

 

"Always full of surprises," she said, chuckling as she pushed the door open. "Try to get those letters drafted by tonight, I'd like to look over them at dinner."

 

"Where are you off to, miss?"

 

Adjusting the collar of her coat, Daijuno turned to face her assistant. "This Menti railing against the Chaotic Six, I'd like to find out more about her. Apparently the Crown Princess was present at her little performance, and despite how much I looooove the Umbralines, something like that is worth investigating. A new player's entered the arena, Zyla, and that means the game has changed."

 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The bustling crowds of the Imperial market always managed to irk and intrigue Dastana Daijuno in equal measure. Shifting, shouting, bumbling, bursting with life, they were a menagerie of Dasakan culture. Here were the Menti, proud and poised, strutting around with their heads high like puppets led by an overzealous master. There were the Datsue, ancient, respected, and so far out of the system that they couldn't even begin to understand what normal people had to deal with.

 

And then there was her; a Saihoko, nothing but a stain on Kentoku's shining visage. A parasite, an insect, a piece of garbage that's served its purpose and has been cast into the wind. Something that's kicked to the side of the road because no one wants it, because they're disgusted by it. Something that can only find solace in the crowds of the Wards and the Markets, where no one can find it and single it out.

 

A fruit-laden cart trundled along the street, bumbling between people and stalls like an old man. It blocked Daijuno's path, and completely at that, forcing her to take a detour around a cluster of stands filled with Ringti hawking books and instruments. A group of Dashi crowded around these things, voices full of wonder as they oohed and aaahed. She tried to give them a wide berth, not get caught up in the dynamo of flesh; but the crowds overpowered her, pushing her along its current like a piece of flotsam. Like a piece of garbage. Grunting curses, she couldn't stop herself from banging elbows (metaphorically speaking, of course) with a drum-wielding Dasaka, whose powerful muscles were only slightly more disconcerting than the red sash tied around her waist.

 

Fursic.

 

"Sorry 'bout that, miss," Daijuno half-muttered, trying to avoid eye-contact as best as she could. "Must not've seen you there."

 

OOC: That'd be Amaki that's been bumped into.

 

-Void

[25K Now!]

IC: Amaki

 

Someone small (Oh, a Dashi) bumped Amaki out of her meandering thoughts. While she had not been a warrior for a decent amount of time, her instincts still told her to study the ... (merchant) before her. The clothing was more extravagant than what the usual saihoko wore. Her eyes flitted to a familiar marking. Ah, a member of the Dastana clan. Probably a pretty wealthy one if the choice of clothing meant anything.

 

"Ah, no worries," she said.

[Snelly]

OOC: Oh right, I have a Desaka. I better like...post or something.

 

IC: Arisaka

 

*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*• [OMG IMAGINE ALL THE GREAT AND FANCY DECORATIONS THAT ARE NOT ACTUALLY HERE] •*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*

By the command of

Her Imperial Highness the Chōjo, Umbraline Yumiwa

The presence of your person and a guest is cordially requested for a festive night of refreshment and conviviality in

the Dragon Hall of the Imperial Palace on the second day following the full moon.

This note permits admittance.

Addendum: Please dress in masquerade.

*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*• [iF A PRINCE HAS NO LAND BUT A REALLLLLY NICE SWORD IS HE STILL A GOOD MATCH?] •*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*

This was what Arisaka read one morning as she was heading out to do her morning workout. As an Umbraline and a guardian of the royal family, she was honor-bound to attend. And so she would, even though parties were not her thing. If her Chōjo requested it then that's where she'd be.

 

All she had to do now was find something to wear besides her usual gear. She didn't own anything fancy because she normally had no use for such things. She headed toward the markets to acquire the necessary materials.

 

OOC: Open for interaction, especially if you have masquerady...things. :3

[Toa Fanixe]

IC:

 

"Interesting? Hah, that's one way of putting it" Kulrik chuckled.

 

Like the Toroshu he also leaned back onto his chair, welcoming the sturdy support and the cozy fire. Now, his belly full of delicious Ageru pie, Kulrik could digest the days events in the peace of pleasant company. The Vilda began twisting the Firsson ring around his finger, a simple task that kept his hand busy.

 

"Getting caught in an earthquake, being swallowed in the earth, wandering through an ancient tunnel, finding a secret cave and nearly having our minds ripped apart by this strange thing" Kulrik said, lifting the sword he'd recovered onto the small table. It was still in it's scabbard, as Kulrik was averse to removing it for fear of another mental barrage. Now, it was as quiet as any old blade.

 

"Reminds me of a story about Ozzu the Mad, the one with silver crown Do you know it? No? Well, it is a bit of a myth, even with the Saihoko. Well, Ozzu, after he'd become blind and mute, was begging on Sado when young Menti invited him into her clan's house for warm meal and a place to sleep. Ozzu thanked the lady, graciously accepting the offer. The next morning, though, it was discovered that the Toroshu's silver crown had been stolen, and naturally the foreign guest was blamed. The Toroshu had his guards chase Ozzu into the sewers, where he stumbled aimlessly for several days, living on scraps of garbage and sewer rats.

 

"Apparently it had in fact been a Dashi servant that had taken it a moment of greed. When the dishonour of her deed was apparent to her, the Ringti threw away the crown rather than take accept the shame of what she'd done. It made it's way into the sewer system and Ozzu, who used his hands and feet to carefully walk through the debris, found it. And that is how Ozzu the Mad came to wear his silver crown."

 

Kulrik neglected to tell the rest of the tale, how when Ozzu escaped the sewers and the people saw the rich diadem upon his head, the Toroshu tried to have him hanged. That part was too gloomy for the present circumstance.

 

Instead the First Son occupied himself with the sword. He ran his hand up and down the scabbard, finally taking hold of the hilt. His eyes grew wide and carefully withdrew the blade from it's confinement, ready to plunge it back in at any instant. As a few inches of the crystal weapon was exposed, though, there was no mental scream; just the faint whisperings at the edge of his and Kilanya's hearing. Kulrik looked around the room pointlessly for the source. He saw the Dashi attendant at the door, still and ignoring the soft whooshes of sound. Kilanya has them well trained, Kulrik thought.

 

Kulrik looked back at Kilanya.

 

"So, what was your Menti training like? It must have been different, with everyone knowing that you'd someday inherit the title of Toroshu over the Ageru."

[Void Emissary]

IC:

 

No one studied Daijuno without being studied in turn.

 

The Dasaka's sturdy build suggested a position as a Menti warrior, but the heavy bachi held in her hands suggested that she most likely a Ringti drummer. Of course, that was impossible to properly determine until more information could be obtained. Her Kanohi could mean anything, but if it really was an Arthron (and not just a lookalike custom mask that the vainer Menti of society would purchase to preserve their looks), then it could suggest a history of combat, while the minimal armour implied retirement and relaxation; no doubt enjoying the perks of having been a contributing member of society. The red sash, of course, meant she was Fursic. Tread carefully. So, a retired soldier of the Fursic....

 

Could be trouble an investment.

 

"You're very kind," Daijuno said, bowing her head at an angle calculated to show respect without appearing subordinate. "But I don't want to seem utterly graceless. How about I buy you a meal? As recompense."

 

-Void

[Hanako Herupa]

IC: (Hanako)

 

I led Yumi down to the cells, to the one where the assassin had been kept and died. I waved to the Guard as we came up to the door, it was a Hogo, I had a great respect for that house, turning out so many solid soldiers and guards. The difference between a Herupa and a Hogo is that Herupa were specialists, we could be trained to fight and we often were, but if you wanted to talk about someone who was balanced, who had that mentality of a soldier, and the willpower of one, you were talking about a Hogo. They were the Umbralines loyal retainers, soldiers who had stayed by the Royal Family's side, my family tried to stay above the affairs of the other clans, but the Herupa's weren't ones to squander the attention they had received since I had become handmaiden to Yumiwa Umbraline.

 

"Hello, The Chojo and I wanted to come down, see where the Umbraline's prisoner was kept, rather peculiar what happened," I said, making small conversation, while Yumi tried to get into contact with her sister between all the levels of stone and crystal, seeing if a trained Menti really could reach this down far with their mind, if such a thing was true, then we probably had a real threat in the Royal Palace, something that would need to be remedied and soon.

[25K Now!]

IC: Amaki

 

What?

 

Amaki blinked, caught off-guard by the sudden offer. "Uhm, I humbly apologise, but I don't think you need to give me anything."

[EmperorWhenua]

Ic: "Your Imperial Highness! Madam Hanako!" the Hogo mook guard saluted and snapped to erect posture with her weapon kept tight as she instantly recognized me (and Hana's namedrop didn't hurt) and she connected the dots to recall my handmaiden's name. "It's an honour to meet you, though... my ladies, you are the last people I expected to ever come down here."

 

" Yes, well, it's funny how that works," I almost yawned said as I took the offered key and twisted it in its keyhole, "because this is also the last place I expected to be all day." With a sigh the cell's heavy crystalline door opened up and I entered the box of stone and crystal casually. "How many prisoners are down here?" I asked the guard between Hana's conversation.

 

"This block has thirty cells, madam. Eight are being used."

 

" And nothing peculiar happened the night of the criminal's apparent death? "

 

"Nothing, my chōjo. Uh, the inspectors did check it out earlier today and declared there was nothing of note within."

 

" Thanks. Hmm." At that point I began staring blankly at the ceiling of the cell and stretched my hands out like I was delicately playing with a spider that dangled down before me and cupping it in my hands like a wizard's orb. Both Hana and the guard stopped talking, both probably at least curious as to what the #### I was doing. It was a trick Inokio had taught me several months before to maximize the range of Ideatalk to send messages. I could hear the mystified Hogo outside whisper to my handmaiden for a hint as to the aberrant actions of the most noble princess.

 

"Madam, what... is the chōjo doing?"

 

"Shhh, I'm tapping into the realm of the miiiind," I whispered as freakishly loud as I could and widened my eyes for emphasis even though nobody could see my freakishly open eyes (which, altogether, was more unsettling than anything really, though it really seemed cooler overall in my head) having easily heard the Hogo's query. After a moment of silence I continued since apparently the two girls were still a little confused, even my Hana honey. "My sister is high above us in the Gardens," I continued, "and I am sending her a signal that I am here so that she can try to reach me with her stronger Willhammer powers. I can't send a broad Ideatalk message to her, but I can send a concentrated burst at her to nudge at her consciousnesses. And that's... what... I'm doing."

 

Imagine that I was holding a small, round, ghostly balloon in my broadly cupped hands. Well, I'd just let it go and rocket up through the thick ceiling and into the levels above. A faint bumb in my mind was all that was left of the sudden surge of power and Hana and the guard outside shuffled their feet quickly. I turned back and looked at them funnily. "Oh, you guys felt it too? Sorry about that. Anyway, the bump's away so if Desde's Willhammer powers can hammer (pun intended) through these floors we'll feel her soon. In the meantime: Hana, come in and look around with me."

 

We looked for clues as a team while the Hogo mook guard remained silently watching from outside and answered our sporadic questions, things like "How many inspectors came?" to "Was the prisoner given food at any time?" and "Did anyone check for poison capsules in her mouth?" and the obvious "Was anything moved around since the Menti was in here last night?" Everything seemed uneventful. The cell was clean, there was no sign of conflict or struggle, and not even a stray droplet of blood or liquid anywhere. Which, I concluded, meant the death came much more swiftly than otherwise possible. Poison was still a possibility, but Willhammering still lingered as an option.

 

Still no Desde, though. Hm.

Edited April 21, 2014 by Jenny Quantum

[Ghosthands]

"I assume you do have an appropriate casual masquerade dress for such an occasion, Lieutenant?"

:Because I absolutely don't.:

 

IC (Tazera)

 

:Of course I do, Aya,: Tazera deadpanned back. :I keep it in my sea-chest, next to my tiara and my tutu.:

 

...

 

:Ok, forget that mental image now.:

[shadow pridak money gang]

IC:

 

Desdemonda was a hurricane, roaring through the Gardens.

 

The facts aren't supposed to match the narrative; the narrative matches the facts. One of the princess' crucial adages rang in her head; they sounded like waves against the surface of an atoll, battering her into near-submission as she folded her legs and sat on a rock. Heart hammering in her chest, surrounded by damaged foliage, she took a brief rest to relax her thoughts and her rate of breath. Yumi's ping - not as strong as Desde's, but powerful; the crown princess had been training in all four disciplines since childhood - had reached her ears at last, faint and echoey; when she attempted to return the psionic beacon, it crashed around frantically like a buoy before sinking under the sea of rock and crystal, where the Gardens ended and dungeons began. To make sure her mental edge was not blunting, she'd been hammering away with her Mindarm powers, creating illusions, testing her thoughts; her practice bout had subsided and she'd still been left with no answers.

 

There was no way any Willhammer could breach the dungeon from here if she could not, but this is as far as one could get without being heavily vetted by the Umbraline family. Not for the first time, she debated the potential that one of her own family members or courtiers could be responsible, but their agendas and alignments fell short of the motive needed to attempt an assassination. Physical death did not sit well with her, either, and not for something so juvenile as a lack of mystery - no one had gotten close enough to administer a lethal dose of poison, and her drink was vetted as thoroughly as the women who served it; she was in perfect physical health; she was nobody! - no, there was a Menti behind this. But that was an answer that her sister had already settled upon as well, and she would not be pleased with zero extra specification.

 

Something in her chest blazed up suddenly, and not just exhaustion; so what? Yumi could live without being pleased for a few minutes! She was destined to be pleased her entire life! Desdemona's job was the thankless one - consolidating, vetting, scheming, lurking; from birth her lot in life had been her sister's clever little shadow, shuffling between the bleak little closets of the Palace where such shadows roamed or out in the open at her sister's side-ish. But she did her duty and did it well; if she was not omniscient enough to solve a single murder without a single shred of evidence to help build her case, was that her fault or the chojo's, for not having the common sense to realize that the Umbralines were not gods? She'd tell her sister that, too, if it came to being belittled, sniped at in public. She'd give Yumi a piece of her mind for once!

 

That thought carried her all the way to the dungeons before she lost her nerve.

 

...

 

"Nothing," the princess admitted sheepishly, the dragon's righteous anger inside her curdling up like a low tide as she walked into the cell and crouched beside Yumi. Briefly, the sisters went over what they'd each discovered - or, rather, all the blanks that they had yet to discover. "Barely got your ping at all. I'm at a loss here, sister. She can't have just up and died. That doesn't just happen, and if the guards swear they haven't touched her...but what? I mean...if it was a Willhammer or a Sighteye, they'd have to have been down here. Unless it was some sort of phantom."

 

It was wit, Desdemona's typical dry wit and nothing more, but something crashed into place for her then as she stared down at the place where the hired would-be killer had met her abrupt, pitiful end. She almost wrote it off as nothing, as big a mistake as that would have been; it was nearly tossed away into a disposal bin as a crackpot idea conceived under heavy stress. She was halfway through the motions of doing just that when she met her sister's eyes, and saw the exact same idea blossom to life, like brilliant blue flowers.

 

Not flowers, thought Desdemona Umbraline. Waves.

 

-Tyler

Edited April 21, 2014 by LONG LIVE TYLER

[EmperorWhenua]

Ic: I was mildly disappointed when Desde came down to see us and give the bad news that she wasn't able to reach us from the Gardens. I also supposed my sister was disappointed in herself to an extent considering her powers weren't enough to go through. Still, while walking back up the wide and vacant staircases to the Garden levels, we caught up with our findings from both sides of the situation: They checked for poison but none was found; no scars or bruises on the handmaiden's body; nobody came to see her from the moment she was put into her cell; the staff on duty was all interviewed by the inspectors and nothing suspicious was found. Dead ends. And then it hit us.

 

"... Unless it was some sort of phantom."

 

As much as I disliked my prodigious sister's affinities we were still two pieces cut from the same cloth. It wasn't always apparent—even as princesses we lived such dramatically different lives that the similarities were all but invisible most of the time—but sometimes a pretty little moment would drift between us and we were reminded that we were more alike than at least I... I don't know, expected, I guess. This was one of those instances.

Like two instruments tuned to the same frequency the idea came to us simultaneously: Kanohi Iden. We gawked at each other with knowing looks in our eyes as the distinct possibility dawned on us. If it wasn't such a sad circumstance I'm sure Hana would have made a mention of how cute we looked but, as it was, we were in the dungeons of the palace investigating a murder, so there was no time for endearing remarks or hearts made by cupping the hands together; we were on a mission.

Hana did say something, though. "Um, am I missing something?" she squeaked. I couldn't blame her; my sister and I facially freaking out at the probably accidental witticism didn't really leave Hana much to go on.

Desde and I turned to her and responded as one. "Kanohi Iden."

 

"Ohhh!"

There weren't many people who used the Iden. As a result of its ability to not only make its wearer an invisible spirit who could fly through walls (and floors) while leaving a perfect body limper than a bag of radishes, it was almost universally considered one of the creepiest masks to wear and that stigma meant very few people had the guts to wear the equivalent to a sign on their chest that said "Hi, I like your fist in my face." There were only two sorts of Menti who wore the Iden: Those who toted it as a badge of honour to show they could take the puches and those who truly did use it for its power. And believe me, that demographic was minute.

 

Hana caught up with the rest of us. "Wait, Yumi, doesn't Kuno—"

 

"Eeeyup."

 

"Oh. Well then."

 

That was about all any of us could say at that moment. Now, we didn't know for sure if Kuno did the deed (indeed, we didn't even know for sure that this was actually the manner in which the Menti died) but honestly we were royals, not census ministry officials, so Kuno was just about the only person we could think of who wore a Mask of Spirit, and if the rumours at court were any indication the Fursic momma's boy was also a quite potent Willhammer. Of course, ability and means are two parts of a murder investigation with the other being motive, and as my sister and I already recognized, a Fursic leader would have a lot at stake to give reason not only to assassinate an outspoken Umbraline member but silence the assassin just the same. My sister was most likely right (dam'it): There was a plot afoot. All those elements supported the possibility that my soon-to-be-betrothed was a murderer, too, and that made me literally shudder at the thought (and not just because Kuno is already disgusting perv).

 

Hana, the ever caring and observant friend, caught sight of my shivering and quickly embraced me much like I did an hour before in the palace breezeway to comfort me. It was wordless exchange marked only by the warmth of her body next to mine... but it meant the world to me. Hana was kind, helpful, my real soulmate all while Kuno lingered on the edge of my fate like some cosmic jester mocking me while slowly infiltrating my circle of companions by virtue of him being the Fursic's First Son. My heart seethed at the prospect of becoming engaged to him and there was no doubt in my mind that even if he was guilty he could finagle out of the limelight.

 

Oh, what I would give to ascend to power come morning and put an end to this episode or just wake up and discover this was all a bad dream. But no, I knew my mom was in good health and I knew this was real life (I even pinched myself under my cloak just to make sure) which meant I would just have to be strong and make the most of these times. That was what I was raised to do, to be holy and just and strong and I'm determined to deliver on that directive. But to do that I'll need more than my own wits about me: I have Mom, who for all her determination is not meant to live forever, and I have Inokio and Hana, who I pray will remain constants for much longer, but two permanent members of my inner circle won't do me much good by themselves. Perhaps, in the coming storm, I should turn to more than just those two.

 

Even if the one I'm thinking of is my (cunning, witty and sickly-looking yet still somehow still respectful) sister. I glanced at her and looked away as soon as her eyes flickered to mine as we finally came into the Garden's chilly nighttime airs.

 

"It's been a long day and I'm tired, " I announced quietly. "We should deliver our findings to the justice ministry and to Uncle Rayuke. He'll know what to do." A vague but delightful thought of my uncle beheading Kuno for the crime crossed my mind and was quickly shut out—bad Yumi! Not very princesslike! "Why don't the two of you meet in the morning and write everything down?" I suggested. "You can use my seal, too, if you'd like."

 

Turning to my sister one more time, and this time keeping my eyes focused, I said, "And Desde... I'll want to see you again soon." With a royal bow I turned and began my long journey back to my apartment high up in the towers, Hana probably a couple moments behind me and Desde likely a little surprised. As for me, I had a long list of things to do tomorrow and it wasn't getting shorter.

Edited April 22, 2014 by Jenny Quantum

[Geardirector]

IC: Eiyu Ankora (Gotsoko's Study)

 

Ankora tapped her fingers at her cane calmly as she passed the time by asking herself what Kesari might have made her book about the atmosphere out of, the power of imagination, perhaps.

[Ghosthands]

"So, what was your Menti training like? It must have been different, with everyone knowing that you'd someday inherit the title of Toroshu over the Ageru."

 

IC (Kilanya)

 

"Yes, it was...different..."

 

For a moment, the Toroshu had a faraway look in her eyes. Memories...

 

With difficulty, she pulled herself back to the present. In her exhausted state, dwelling on those days might cause her to let something slip. That was something she did not want, especially in front of Kulrik of all people. No, it was safer to avoid the subject and muster her energies for something else, something she'd been meaning to do all day.

 

"Vilda Kulrik," she addressed him, her voice suddenly firm. "Please tell me, how well acquainted are you with Guardswoman Aveela?"

Edited April 22, 2014 by Geisthande

[Vezok's Friend]

IC (Tazera)

 

 

:Of course I do, Aya,: Tazera deadpanned back. :I keep it in my sea-chest, next to my tiara and my tutu.:

 

...

 

:Ok, forget that mental image now.:

 

 

IC:

 

:You're asking the impossible, Taz. I'm good, but not that good.: Ayiwah replied. She felt a bit torn between laughter and sighing in frustration. For one, social gatherings of this type were not her thing and she recalled the christening of the Yukanna with dread. But leave it to royalty to come up with an even more awkward scenario.

 

Masquerade...why did it have to be Masquerade... she thought, privately this time. She would have preferred to make the appearance in her dress uniform, but that was even more formal than her regular attire. And if the chojo was throwing the party, it was safe to assume the more formal they appeared, the more they would be the odd ones out. It could not be helped, then.

 

The commodore made the slightest nod, indicating the main gates of the gardens and signaling Tazera that it was time to get moving. She needed to find a merchant that sold the appropriate attire. But if she was going to engage in such ridiculous endeavors she would not do it alone. Besides, she and Taz needed each other in this case, since she doubted any Dashi would give her a straight opinion on what outfit would look right to wear.

:Where to?: Tazera asked. Then she spotted the sly look in Ayiwah's eyes.

 

:You wanted shore leave, now you're getting it. We are going shopping:

[EmperorWhenua]

Ic: The walk back to my apartment was loooong. Since the Gardens wrapped around the palace's main buildings they were the most direct and easy path to take since they would lead me right to the main entrance of the Imperial Palace. The alternative was trekking up dozens of minor flights of stairs between wings and towers and I wasn't really looking forward to that. Deprived of my precious Hana and all the other handmaidens all I had for 'company' was the loyal squad of Clan Hogo retainers that always remained just barely out of my sight and mind.

 

It was tranquil at this late hour that brushed just past midnight but the lights of the city glowed brighter in the night. Sado never slept but rather always had some sort of activity going, whether it was a minor noble throwing a house party in the palace's lower levels, a slam poetry exhibition next to the birds of prey aviary or a rummage sale in the Market. I always enjoyed this vibrato; when I read my books in the windowsills of my apartment I love looking down on my domain and seeing bright life pulse through its brightly-lit streets like luminescent blood in transparent veins. It comforted me to see my future subjects content and active and the din of life relaxed my nerves. It was thrilling but soothing to me, or, as Hana sometimes told me, it was reflective of my personality; always doing, always thinking, always calm.

 

The Menti I passed on my walk all instantly recognized who I was and bowed respectfully as I roved on by and I returned their respect with a charming smile and a twinkle in my sapphire eyes. (I'm pretty sure one lad even fainted at the sight. Some boys... ) As I came up to the grand entrance staircase of the palace, a broad flight of 555 steps (I counted them all when I was a kid) that ended in a central plaza at the core of the Imperial Palace, two more proper and professional Menti caught my attention—

 

"Commodore Ayiwah!" I called out and waved to my cousin and her first mate. I didn't actually have to make a scene of seeing them—they'd already seen me seconds before and it was hard to miss me anyway—but I was excited to hear what the scoop on the Menti on the Roof was. They lingered on the edge of the Gardens, apparently on their way down into the lower city, and I walked quickly over to them and waited expectantly for Aya to speak.

[Vezok's Friend]

IC:

Think of the chojo and she will appear... Ayiwah thought as she heard the voice, clear as a mountain stream, call out behind her. Shopping would have to be postponed for a little while longer. Tazera and her stopped in their tracks, turned around and bowed as Yumiwa approached.

"Princess Yumiwa;" the commodore greeted her, "we have the information you requested, your highness." Directly to the point, as usual. Ayiwah produced the slip of paper Taz had handed her earlier and passed it to Yumiwa, who eagerly took it.

"Her name is Nihi, one of the Menti who were on the first expedition to Mata Nui. Lieutenant Tazera found out where she lives and did some more investigating on her family as well. She has a sick sister she regularly visits."

Ayiwah looked from Her royal cousin to Taz. "Lieutenant, would you like to fill in more details?"

:After all, this was your gig:

Edited April 23, 2014 by Smaug the Terrible

[Toa Fanixe]

IC:

 

The First Son didn't bat an eyebrow when Kilanya mentioned the guardswoman he'd invited into his room. He was far too well-trained to be perturbed by a simple question, even if it did catch him by surprise. No, Vilda Kulrik just continued to smile at the Menti sitting opposite him as he thought about his next move silently.

 

Though, Kulrik did swear as loud as he could within the confines of his mind.

 

There were only two people that definitely knew what gone in his quarters, and that was himself and Aveela. He certainly hadn't told anyone, and Kulrik didn't believe Aveela had either. Not willingly at least. Kulrik conceded that it was possible a Willhammer had forced the knowledge from the Ageru guard's mind (Kilanya was well known to be powerful practitioner of that Discipline), but to have done that someone must have had suspicions. Only the other guardswoman and the Captain of the Mahuika Guard, Nahila. Of the two, the latter seemed more likely to have informed Toroshu Kilanya of his association with Aveela.

 

Ultimately, it depended on how much Nahila and Kilanya knew. Had they Willhammered Aveela's mind, or hadn't they? Breaking into someone else's mind was a fairly serious affair, so Kulrik gambled they hadn't.

 

Finally, he spoke.

 

"Aveela is a... wonderful young woman. I had a short chat with her outside my room, and later invited her in to continue the conversation. She helped me with some, umm, Vilda exercises, since my muscles had gotten a little stiff on the road, and when we were done she left."

 

Kulrik leaned over the table slightly, lowering his voice.

 

"To tell you the truth though, she did seem a little, well, taken with me. I wouldn't be surprised if she already has all sorts of ideas and dreams about me. Honestly, my looks and my bearings have charmed a number of Menti over the years, including some high-ranking Umbralines. It's unfortunate really, and has landed me in hot water in the past after I'd explained that my clan has strict breeding policies, decimating their plans to have me become their husband. I hope she hasn't gotten into any trouble for coming into me room, and that I haven't been the cause of her being derelict in any of her duties."

 

He paused, waiting to see the effect of his words. Even if Aveela's mind had been searched, Kulrik's explanation would, hopefully, soften anything incriminating that may have been found.

 

 

"Next!"

 

Robalta's command came out squeakier than she'd intended, but she was getting along in her years. She sat up straighter in her chair, a simple wooden thing that lay off to the side of the Vilda throne. Robalta wouldn't dare sit in that thing, she loved and respected her sister far too much. No, the Vilda throne was reserved for the great Vilda Toroshu herself, and no one else. Besides, Robalta was quite happy and comfortable with her chair.

 

Sistet to Relisai looked to the side, where the Warden stood as impassive as ever. He was a statue, only occasionally offering advice, but Robalta still valued his presence. She quietly thanked her sister again to have provided Robalta with her most trusted aide, to help and advise her with anything she needed. Relisai really was thoughtful, and a wonderful Toroshu that managed the clan extremely well.

 

"My lady Relisai " uttered the Dashi that came forward, dressed as a messenger than had travelled a gruelling journey. "I come with an invitation for you, from the Capitol and the Umbralines."

 

The Dashi, accompanied by two guards, walked over and handed Relisai an envelope. The temporary leader of the Vilda opened it up an and read.

 

 

*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*• [OMG IMAGINE ALL THE GREAT AND FANCY DECORATIONS THAT ARE NOT ACTUALLY HERE] •*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*

By the command of

Her Imperial Highness the Chōjo, Umbraline Yumiwa

The presence of your person and a guest is cordially requested for a festive night of refreshment and conviviality in

the Dragon Hall of the Imperial Palace on the second day following the full moon.

This note permits admittance.

Addendum: Please dress in masquerade.

*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*• [iF A PRINCE HAS NO LAND BUT A REALLLLLY NICE SWORD IS HE STILL A GOOD MATCH?] •*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*

"Oh, thank you so much, but I'm afraid I can't come!" Robalta exclaimed with regret.

"I'm sorry, but my sister Toroshu Relisai has charged me with running the clan in her absence, so I can't be running around going to masquerade balls and parties. But you know, I have a daughter, the Toroshu's niece, that I'm sure would enjoy such an event. Could you possibly deliver this invitation to her?"

"I'd be happy to, Lady Robalta. Where is she?"

"My daughter Soraph is on Sado. She works in the Gardens you see, our representative there; my sister was nice enough to give Soraph such an important job, although I don't see her as much as I'd liked to anymore. But honour is more important than that, I guess.

 

The messenger frowned, his back slumping.

 

"On... Sado? I just came from there..." She looked distraught at the prospect of returning to the road, to a journey that would require as much stamina as the one coming to Oki.

 

"And there you shall return, after you dine with us in our hall and get a good night's sleep. The Vilda are a hospitable clan, and thank you for fulfilling your duty so well."

 

The Dashi messenger's face brightened.

 

"Thank you, m'lday. Thank you very much.

 

The Dashi bowed again, then was escorted out of the room. Robalta looked over to the Warden to see if she approved of her actions. The Warden caught her eye, and just barely nodded.

 

"Next!"

[Ghosthands]

IC (Tazera)

 

Tazera was flustered for a moment, the only indication of her stress being a slight widening of the eyes. What else was there to tell? Aya had aptly summed up just about everything she'd discovered...

 

The lieutenant quickly recovered herself, however. The only things she could add were her personal deductions, so they would have to do.

 

She gave a second bow; it couldn't hurt.

 

"You've got the address on the paper there, Your Highness," she said. Her voice was as clipped and professional as possible. "I was given some vague information by a local Dashi, ma'am. I've made some inferences, if you'd like to hear them, ma'am."

[EmperorWhenua]

Ic: I couldn't help but giggle amusedly at Tazera's formality of ma'ams and your highnesses. I'd heard about Ageru Tazera, the commodore's unshakable sidekick, and I'd even spotted her at the DIN Yukanna's christening gala (though I knew I made a bigger impression on her than the other way around), but we'd never been introduced before. The lieutenant's default to a formal manner was understandable, as was her look of confusion when I laughed at the awkwardness she radiated. She glanced nervously at her commander as if asking did I do something wrong?

 

Most people don't get my quirks, even the better-known ones, and assume being a princess is all formality and regality and stiff backs and upturned Kanohi. In the Imperial Court this was the required norm but this was not the court. I preferred a casual aura when it could be had, though that said I also enjoyed playing the occasional prank and nothing had the same effect as toying with a person totally determined to set the most positive initial contact with their next empress. "Lieutenant," I snapped after recovering from my fit, "it's 'Your Imperial Highness.'"

 

The horrified look on her face was utterly priceless.

 

"Tazera," I finally greeted congenially and touched her on the shoulder to shatter the tension anew, " I feel we've started on uncomfortable footing. Hi, I'm Umbraline Yumiwa, though since you sail the sea with my cousin here you can call me Yumi, okay?" I said and smiled charmingly.

Edited April 23, 2014 by Jenny Quantum

[Ghosthands]

OOC: Little jam between EW and I.

 

IC (Tazera)

 

######, I left out the middle bit!

 

The lieutenant's self-cursing melted away as the chojo dropped her charade - but was replaced with consternation at the sheer informality of the Crown Princess' greeting. Of course, Yumiwa was a close relative of her Aya, but asking her (a soldier) to call her by a pet-name on their first meeting?

 

Suddenly, a new feeling entered Tazera's head and she smirked mentally.

 

Heh. Well. If she wants to play games...

 

"Is that an order, ma'am?"

 

I stared back at Tazera and choked my smile into a frown before gripping Taz's shoulder more firmly and laying down my law in language any sailor could appreciate: with spice. "Yes, that's a ###### order, lieutenant."

 

Tazera snapped a salute that could have beheaded a Janu bird.

"Yes ma'am!" she barked, before adding "...Yumi."

There was a pause, and then not even Taz could hold back a snort of laughter. The chojo looked pleased.

That done, I unrolled the parchment and looked it over. "Some inferences, you say? Do elaborate."

Immediately back to business, Tazera nodded in acknowledgement of the instruction.

"The Dashi told me Nihi had been on an important expedition recently - I haven't read the report myself, but I can only assume that was the Mata Nui mission."

Even the most out-of-the-loop Saihoko could have made that leap of logic, but it was a start.

"Then there's the matter of her sister. The Dashi wouldn't say any more than that she was 'sick', so I reckon she either didn't know, or wouldn't say. Either way, my guess is there's a reason that's being kept quiet."

Now for the coup-de-grace.

"She also said that Nihi hadn't been the same since the Chaotic Six escaped. Seems to me she's got to have some special beef with them - and that might be why she was stirring up trouble in the Markets. And note that the Dashi said after their escape...scuttlebutt was, there was a casualty from that getaway. See the connection, ma'am Yumi?"

Edited April 23, 2014 by Geisthande

[EmperorWhenua]

Ic: It all seemed to make sense. This Nihi (I finally had a name to match the face!) suffered an intimate casualty when the Chaotic Six were here. By coincidence (maybe?) she was part of the team to find Mata Nui and became infuriated by the Skakdi population's existence there. She came back and would have been on fire, ready to be set to the crowd like a torch into a barn by an opportunist. The poor girl would have been helpless against manipulation with her strong emotions. Hana could give her a few Herupa lessons on self-control for sure.

 

"Yeah, I do," I affirmed then folded the parchment up and lodged it tightly in my chest for safekeeping. "Thank you for the intel, Tazera. It'll be put to good use." My plan was to visit Nihi and do my own investigation, though I wouldn't have been able to go far with that without the valuable work from these two good soldiers. "Though if you find anything more on Nihi, please forward it to me by courier."

 

Turning back to my cousin I noticed she had a note with my seal on the back—could the party invitations have gotten out already? But what else could it be? Sometimes I'm awed by the efficient work my handmaidens could accomplish. "I hope I'll be seeing the two of you at the party in a couple days?" I asked. "If you're lacking a masquerade ornament—Aya, remember Plangori Soraya, the dashi to assembled your dress uniform? Go see her and I'm sure she'll get something going for you."

[Vezok's Friend]

IC:

 

Ayiwah nodded. She vaguely remembered the dashi that had come to her one day and taken very thorough measurements of her body. She had been quick and efficient and just a few days later she had presented a uniform that was fitting almost perfectly. It had only taken another day to do the minor alterations necessary and deliver it back to her. That Yumiwa was recommending her now was slightly surprising; she had not thought of her as a tailor of costumes as well. Then again, she had to worry about her appearance far less than the chojo; as long as her uniform was pristine, she was good. Yumi's attires on the other hand were probably crafted with so much care and effort that the value of the work was enough to feed a dashi family for an entire year, even if it was just a casual outfit.

 

"Thank you for the recommendation, Yumiwa. We will definitely pay her a visit" Ayiwah replied, allowing herself a small smile. "In fact we were just about to head into town and find something appropriate for the party."

[They]

OOC: Sorry for the horribly short and evil posts. Been really busy and don't have much time to write anywhere near what I'd like.

 

IC: Kwaiya

 

"And so?" Kwaiya asked while tugging at the edge of her scarf. "What does it say?"

 

IC: Kamari

 

As they finished their meal a runner appeared bearing the following:

 

*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*• [OMG IMAGINE ALL THE GREAT AND FANCY DECORATIONS THAT ARE NOT ACTUALLY HERE] •*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*

By the command of

Her Imperial Highness the Chōjo, Umbraline Yumiwa

The presence of your person and a guest is cordially requested for a festive night of refreshment and conviviality in

the Dragon Hall of the Imperial Palace on the second day following the full moon.

This note permits admittance.

Addendum: Please dress in masquerade.

*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*• [iF A PRINCE HAS NO LAND BUT A REALLLLLY NICE SWORD IS HE STILL A GOOD MATCH?] •*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*

 

 

 

"Perhaps your increased measures of security were warranted in other ways," Kamari said after reading the invitation.

 

 

IC: Koga

 

The game was about to start, the crowd expectant for the first through of the paero disk, then came the royal messengers who quickly took every man's mind away from sport with a single note:

 

*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*• [OMG IMAGINE ALL THE GREAT AND FANCY DECORATIONS THAT ARE NOT ACTUALLY HERE] •*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*

By the command of

Her Imperial Highness the Chōjo, Umbraline Yumiwa

The presence of your person and a guest is cordially requested for a festive night of refreshment and conviviality in

the Dragon Hall of the Imperial Palace on the second day following the full moon.

This note permits admittance.

Addendum: Please dress in masquerade.

*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*• [iF A PRINCE HAS NO LAND BUT A REALLLLLY NICE SWORD IS HE STILL A GOOD MATCH?] •*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*

 

[Toa Fanixe]

IC:

 

 

Soraph and Mako, both of whom had settled in their seats as the First Sons took their places on either side of the field, now watched in curiosity as royal messenger arrived. The couriers were finely dressed, walking up to each famed male and handing them a note of some sort.

 

"I wonder what could be so important so as to stall a Paero game between First Sons?" Soraph asked the Vilda elder.

 

"Lady Soraph?"

 

Soraph turned to side where now stood another messenger. She looked exhausted and her clothes filthy, as if she'd just returned from a long trip. Even now, her breathing was a little haggard, no doubt from running.

 

"Yes?"

 

"I have an invitation for you." The messenger handed Soraph a note, which the Vilda princess realized was the reason for the fuss on the ground below.

 

*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*• [OMG IMAGINE ALL THE GREAT AND FANCY DECORATIONS THAT ARE NOT ACTUALLY HERE] •*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*

By the command of

Her Imperial Highness the Chōjo, Umbraline Yumiwa

The presence of your person and a guest is cordially requested for a festive night of refreshment and conviviality in

the Dragon Hall of the Imperial Palace on the second day following the full moon.

This note permits admittance.

Addendum: Please dress in masquerade.

*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*• [iF A PRINCE HAS NO LAND BUT A REALLLLLY NICE SWORD IS HE STILL A GOOD MATCH?] •*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*

"Who else has received these invitations?" Soraph asked.

"All First Sons, Toroshu and the Toroshu's family members" replied the messenger. "I was supposed to give this one to your mother, but she is busy running the Vilda in Toroshu Relisai's absence, so she asked me to deliver it to you instead. If that's all, m'lady?"

"Yes of course, and thank you. You've done your duty admirably" Soraph told the messenger, who looked just about ready to collapse. The messenger bowed slightly, then walked out of the stadium.

Soraph considered the implications of the news she'd just received. She had to go the party - there would be countless important, albeit hidden, faces present and it was the perfect opportunity to further insinuate herself with the society' elite. Soraph already knew that the next few years would be quite tumultuous for everyone in the Empire, and she more than others might need strong alliances with other clans. The only problem was the Toroshu of the Vilda, Soraph aunt and her jailer. The party would be the first time Soraph would see the woman who'd exiled her to Sado since she'd left Oki. Soraph wasn't quite sure how she felt about meeting Relisai, not when the vile lady was still her lord and Toroshu.

"Well Mako, I hope you have a costume ready, or I might need to give you an advance on your pay. We'll be attending a masquerade ball tomorrow night, and I can't have you dressed like that" Soraph told the Datsue, showing him the invitation.

When she did meet Relisai, Soraph needed to have allies by her side.

[Relapse]

IC: (Roku Lhurai)

 

"Give me that."

 

"But sir, this is for our guest!"

 

"Give me that."

 

"I'm sorry sir, but this isn't yours-"

 

With a grip of Lhurai's fist, the vintage, classically molded plaster plate flew out of the attendant's hand, falling to the ground and shattered into a thousand high-quality pieces, bits crashing across the floor of the palace and right onto the First Son's long navy cloak. Its content, a freshly-baked danish, halted in its dive just before hitting the ground, suddenly having taken up an interest in flying as it drifted into Lhurai's waiting mouth. "Thanks," he mumbled through the treat, patting the disgruntled server on the back as he walked by. He paid no mind to the volley of arrows she was launching in her gaze, instead electing to take the path less traveled straight to his living room.

 

As soon as he entered the room, he cast off his cloak, draping it across the floor and collapsing onto the sofa. With a sigh, he wiped the corners of the mouth of danish remnants. Life was hard. Lhurai simply laid there until his door was unceremoniously molested and through it came yet another woman looking to waste his time.

 

"Roku Lhurai, I need you in the conference hall."

 

"At least buy me a drink first. I mean, I am the First Son, a little precedent kind of mandatory for that kind of invitation."

 

"You're not funny."

 

"I try," he groaned, arising from the depths of his couch and pulling his cloak back over himself. He followed his attendant's swaying hips directly into the conference hall, where an Umbraline messenger was waiting with, as Lhurai quickly deducted, a message. The contents of said message were almost as exotic and attractive as their foreign messenger (*cue wolf whistling*) and were enough to draw his attention from the shiny new ring he'd been giving for his birthday to the prospect of a masquerade outfit. Balls were somewhat common among the more fun-loving districts, but those held by the Chojo were a whole different prospect.

 

Ever since his trip to the Imperial city, he had been entertaining a massive crush on Yumiwa, but had of course not ever acted on it as he had never gotten near to the Chojo herself. However, the boyish attraction to Yumiwa was dwarfed in comparison to his veritable devotion to Desdemona. That, however, is a topic he did not often mentally explore, as he had exhausted every mental facet and now had only to meet her and continue his consideration.

 

"READY THE CHARIOT."

 

"You don't own a chariot. And the ball isn't for a few days at the least."

 

"well there's no sense being unprepared now is there"

 

With that, he retired to his personal quarters to find out what masquerade was and to write a well thought-out love letter to a certain Desdemona.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

and also yumiwa can't forget her

[25K Now!]

IC: Noshima

 

Noshima studied the letter carefully, her eyes slowly taking in each sentence with a sense of slight curiosity. She was no stranger to gatherings like this - to the contrary, she had attended quite a number of them during her tenure as the heir to the Hogo leadership and as the Toroshu. Of course, there were times in which she refused to attend (although she only risked doing so if she knew the hosts would not take too much offense), but it would be impossible to refuse Her Imperial Highness' wishes. After all, it was a request, not an invitation.

 

It would be political suicide to ignore the letter, especially with her role as the leader of the Hogo.

 

"The likelihood of the clan possessing access to the Hall is small," she replied, pondering on how she would sort the situation out. "They will be posted amongst all possible entrances and exits."

 

The Hogo Toroshu glanced at her loyal retainer.

 

"If I may inquire, it would be no problem if you were given the trust to command the clan during this affair?"

[They]

IC: Hogo Kamari

 

The menti set aside her chopsticks and finished the bite of braised fish before speaking. "Of course my Toroshu, you may have confidence your trust is well placed."

[25K Now!]

IC: Noshima

 

"Many thanks, Kamari."