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Post by Shaeleigh Finvarra on Jun 23, 2013 16:04:41 GMT
The twilight was settling quickly in the mortal world, not that you could tell within the mound. The light filtered in a different way, but still everyone knew that it was the coming of night. It was a time when certain Fae would venture forth to complete their 'business' in the human world. Of course, there were already a great plenty Fae abroad in this day and age. After the reveal it was hard not to bump into them scattered about. It was disgraceful. There was no rhyme or reason to how the individuals chose their locations, no sacred glens to gather in. On top of that, the mingling that took place was sickening.
Shae knew that the human world drew her, like a small child was drawn to a worm. There was something fascinating about the humans and their world, even as she dreaded the idea of actually touching it. Still, there were always the rare jewels hidden among the muck; her sweet pets. She longed for the more naïve days she had spent growing up within the world; instead of this harsh suspicious modern age. Still, she enjoyed her stolen moments in the chaotic mess the humans lived in.
At this particular moment, Shae was taking a break from playing in the human world, withdrawing from that lengthy game of cat and mouse. She hated how boring the mound could be, and court was even worse. There never seemed to be enough to hold her attention, the intrigue of the nobles had grown stale more than centuries ago. Instead, she spent her time basking in the cruel fun of torturing her mother.
Shae lounged on the chaise, watching Nerissa attempt to flirt with her newest underling. He would be simple enough to snatch away from the disgraced elder. Not that Shae was honestly interested in the man in the least. He was common enough, as Sidhe went, nothing noteworthy. Just like every other lower class Sidhe that lingered around the court. Almost on par with her mother, but not quite as disgraced. His station was far below a granddaughter of the house of Finvarra. Still, it bothered her mother so much when Shae was the reason she had no companion. Vindictive as she was, that was the whole reason Shae did it whenever she had the opportunity to. She strove to make Nerissa feel as alone as Shae had felt when she learned about her birth. Besides, she liked the excitement of taking something away from someone else.
“Shae, where are your manners?” her mother’s shrill voice interrupted her meandering thoughts. “Are you even going to greet me, or say anything to our guest?”
“Your guest, Mother,” Shae scoffed with a sneer. “Besides, being raised in the human world, I suppose I have their manners.”
“You see how mean to me she is, Dravyn?” her mother whined plaintively, batting her long eyelashes at him. Her full dark red lips pouted out as she tried to get him to comfort her.
Shae rolled her eyes, suddenly over any interaction with the pathetic woman at all. Even this pastime was getting old. Everything about her life was boring lately. She needed to stay within the court and keep her finger on the pulse of how interactions after the Reveal were going; she had to know what was happening on both sides of the issue. It did her no good too ignore her opposition, even if she didn’t like the humans, their rules, or those that agreed with them. She wanted life to return to the ways of old, when people had believed in the Fae as beings to be respected, feared, and yes, even loved.
“Give it up, Mother,” Shae said dismissively. She pushed herself to her feet, biting back all the scornful remarks that sprang to her tongue. The woman was not worth it today, neither was her newest little minion. She was sure that the buy knew their history, and still he used the fact her mother was disgraced to try to improve his own position. She strode away from the spectacle her mother and the much younger male were creating. Her flowing green dress rustled against the other chairs and the train trailed behind her, but she ignored most of the other Fae, her superior attitude expected of someone of noble blood. Besides, she didn’t care what any of these bored socialites thought, not really.
The sudden tug on the fabric that followed her brought her to a halt.
How dare someone step upon her dress?
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Strike
Elite Member
Posts: 20
RP Level: Intermediate
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Post by Strike on Jun 24, 2013 8:24:43 GMT
((You must be familiar with the Merry Gentry series because my oh my! I am addicted to your writing )) The Mounds were not a place he wished to be. Of course, he always said that when he entered the grounds and took in the visual reminder of his childhood dismay. A dismay that burned deep within and carried from day to day with just as much fire as the previous. At most, it was the cause for his self inflicted exile from the court, though it was never a finalized official act. On the rare occasion he would enter the doorway and remind himself of just why he chose his path. Today was no different. Strikarash Moonshallow was being tampered with. A Fae of complete unknown origin in his knowledge base had entered his calm, quiet life, rousing all sorts of potential problems. There was a reason he stayed far away from the court. The drama and secrets only pressed what little self control he managed. These short visits were just barely tolerable. But necessary. Despite the deceit that spread like a plague, the Mounds offered information, as gossip was the highest pass time. At least for Sidhe. Thankfully, Strike’s opposite mannerisms were favorable to his non Sidhe blood ties. Blood ties he appreciated in the human world. In Farie, he needed to embrace the Sidhe blood. More specifically, the Unseelie. Where is mother was once upon a time a highly praised Seelie noble, there knowledge would do him no good. Besides, he was far too Unseelie, too mutated to even step foot in the golden throng. The only thing remotely acceptable was his inherited physical attributes of his mother; silver hair, silvered skin, height, and sharp features that were borderline broad. Features he spent every waking day glamouring to protect his identity. Well here, he didn’t have to. More like couldn’t. Everyone was so much older than him that it was simply insulting to hide himself in their court. His biggest disadvantage here was his age even though his mind worked just like any of theirs. Even though his blackened eyes would betray him as mixed blood, he hoped many would ignore him as mixed breeds were becoming more and more common. Last he had heard, dark colors were in and of course he needed every brownie point possible. Besides, it would not have done well to trudge in the corridors with a beaten up, ripped jean coat with pants to match. Instead he dug deep within his dresser drawers and managed a somewhat new black T-shirt that he apparently hadn’t worn in years as well as a clean pair of jeans. Once he left the Mounds, there would be no way he would be able to regain his composure quick enough to cast glamour over himself so he brought a long dark trench coat draped over his arm to cover with later. Mindlessly, he walked forward, his eyes downcast as his right hand rubbed the black tattooing lining his left arm. Glancing to the side, as unimportant of a place as it seemed, his eye caught a stone pillar not far. Images passed through his mind of one of his severest beatings, causing him to stop suddenly in his path. A small tug pulled beneath his booted foot. Blinking, Strike glanced down to see the fabric below his foot. Looking up, dumbstruck, Strike had but a second to recognize the face he looked at. Finvara was not a family he wished to tangle with at the moment but it seemed he had. Shae was substantially older than him and he only hoped that she would not know him. After leaving the Mounds in his childhood, it seemed many had forgotten him, especially since he had decided to take the last name of his adoptive parents, Moonshallow, rather than his birth mother, Alongya Alvaldr. Finally he managed to mutter out, “Apologies, m'lady.” Quietly the words left him but he refused to downcast his eyes in submission. Instead he stepped back away from the train of her skirt and remained still to allow her the first choice of passage.
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Post by Shaeleigh Finvarra on Jun 25, 2013 3:32:19 GMT
{Well, thank you. I haven’t actually, although now that I have found this site I am dying to read them.}
There was no mistaking the wrath in her eyes at the indignity of someone actually trodding upon the fabric she let trail behind her. True, the flowing trains had gone out many years ago, Shae never cared for the changing of styles. She loved the way that the court had dressed when she had first entered the mound, and didn’t care what anyone else thought; another thing that annoyed her mother deeply.
The face of the person belonging to the boot upon her beautiful fabric was familiar, but no name came immediately to mind. Not unusual, since Shae didn’t often interact with Fae that hadn’t been at court for many centuries. Perhaps, he was one of her mother’s many past flings, though she doubted it. He didn’t look like type to be a lap dog, even to Nerissa.
The words of apology seemed genuine, and he even used the inflection of the gentry. A sure way to cool her ire. She was old, she knew it, and so should anyone else that crossed her path. Reverting to the way things were done when she had first entered the mound was a sure fire way to get on her good side, at least minimally. She pulled the long train around behind her as she switched directions, turning to face him fully. She studied him closely, only slightly surprised by his lack of submission. Her eyes drifted from the end of his boots, no longer defiling her dress, to the top of his silvery head and back down again.
Yes, she felt as if she should recognize him. Perhaps a relative of his, he was obvious mixed. Another reason she had most likely never run across him before. A spark of recognition lit when she tried to think of those features upon a different face. A vague thought that it had something about Seelie. She dismissed the rest of the thought easily; it didn’t matter to her.
“Forgiven,” she began softly. “For now.”
She paused as she stepped closer. He was interesting to say the least, something new to explore. That he had caught her attention was surely a double edged blade. She wouldn’t lash out, yet to his benefit most likely. However, he had caught her interest, which could prove the opposite of beneficial.
“No permanent damage,” she finished, once more flicking the train out behind her in a very easy learned movement.
“But,” she continued with a smile. The simply facial expression was not a comforting look. It was sly and manipulative.
“I think you owe me something in return.”
She trailed off, leaving the demand hanging in the air between them. He could answer however he liked. If he was smart, he would find a way to appease her. If not, he might risk making everything worse for himself. Either way, she would learn something about this strange new acquaintance, and had forgotten her boredom for the moment.
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Strike
Elite Member
Posts: 20
RP Level: Intermediate
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Post by Strike on Jun 25, 2013 3:58:07 GMT
((You’ve caught on to how the author portrays her Sidhe. The books are amazing as she combines a great mixture of genres. Though I have to admit she tends to lean more towards erotica at parts. She somehow manages to make it plot worthy overall.))
As expected, anger and annoyance gleamed in her eyes. Also as expected, she glanced him over in accusation. Strike shifted uncomfortably, doing his best to keep the movement small and quick. Too many times he had been disciplined for the true emotions that would escape on his expression or in his body language. A false mask at court was the best way to survive. If you one did not know the best words to say to lighten the situation, one simply did not say anything at all but the barest possible. In this case it was an apology, that was earned as he was to blame, followed by a proper title, to soothe what aggression was raised.
The choice had been successful. At her acceptance Strike smiled, though it was a minor curl to the corner of his mouth., as well as offering a brief nod of recognition to the acceptance. It was rather obvious by her attire and mannerism that she appreciated the old ways, and her age was reason enough. Some Fae did that and it was oddly something he appreciated. As did his mother since she nearly beat the teachings into him.
Stepping closer made his back stiffen, an action he could not catch quick enough as he stood straighter. Close proximities and approach were not something Strike was fond of. Even in realizing his error to catch the action he found himself tilting his head ever so slightly in question. He really did need to remember these things or at least practice awhile before entering the mounds.
Her words were rather unsettling, bringing a about a burst of regret through him. But he needed to recover quickly and upon that mental reminder, he was back to a blank face. Though he remained standing tall.
“Of course, milady. A simple word cannot remedy the error.” It took more self control than he knew he had to keep the sarcasm and distaste from his tone. Everything about this place strained every resource he possibly had. Though it was not her particularly that bothered him, it was the concept of the courts and what they harbored.
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Post by Shaeleigh Finvarra on Jun 25, 2013 13:17:22 GMT
The slight stiffening of his body was as obvious as it was offensive. Still, it was not surprising. She was in her rights to demand some sort of punishment. There were so many different forms of discipline available, and so many Unseelie enjoyed the darker methods. His recovering with the questioning look was not very successful, but she let it pass. He wasn't experienced enough at court for such a thing to bother her, at least sufficiently to let it show.
His voice did not match his actions or expressions, a fact that was in his favor. As well as making Shae want to laugh. Such a response was out of the question. It simply wasn't something she would allow at court with all these backbiting exploiting nobles about.
“Now, don’t look so worried,” Shae began softly, there was even a trace of humor. She wasn't sure why she let it slip out. Perhaps because his manners spoke volumes on how she had begun to feel about the court and everyone that chose to enjoy being in it. She had forced herself to choose the lesser of two evils, when she retreated into the mound. The court was only slightly less offensive than the humans that inhabited the world she longed to own. However, the world held so many more appealing aspects, and that made it dangerous. Court was pretentious, but easy once she had caught on to how everything was expected to work. Though, just because she was good at something, did not mean she enjoyed it. In addition, nothing at court would ever hurt her the way the world outside enjoyed doing at every turn.
“Let’s start with your name, easy enough.”
It was another loaded request. Anyone familiar with the way Fae court worked would realize that she wanted his full name, preferably birth name. It would also give her something more than just his name. There was power in knowing a person’s connections and history by learning their name. It would also give her the ability to find out anything she wanted, without him even knowing it. The demand still left the chance for him to slight her by refusing to give her more than a shortened version. A nickname, or assumed name would not sit well with the Fae noble.
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Strike
Elite Member
Posts: 20
RP Level: Intermediate
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Post by Strike on Jun 25, 2013 13:47:14 GMT
Honestly, when she stated he owed her in return, he assumed it would be as any of the noble’s requested. Some pathetic task low enough for the mound workers, or perhaps something embarrassing to cause a snobbish laugh, anything along those lines. He had come across her before but not nearly face to face as he was now. And he only heard the whispering rumors of her history. What was and wasn’t accurate was up for debate. It was simply the concept of owing another that bothered him so, and the fact it could be used against him at a whim. From what he had heard of her, she would fit that bill.
The soft tones she used with him were…unsettling. Even in the human world, no one truly meant such niceness. Hell, Strike never gave anyone the illusion himself for fear of only leading to the same disappointment he always had received. It simply was too hard to tell what was truth and what was not. Fae did not lie, but they could spin the truth well enough to convince you the sky was made of mud and the earth was cotton candy. Literally. But there was always that faintest glimmer in one’s eye that he knew held the secret of truth. But he had never been good at deciphering it. He simply stared blankly. To some, his stare was ominous as his entire eye was as dark as his pupil. It was as though looking into the abyss, a dark lonely abyss. Or so his birth mother had taunted him with once before.
And there it was. Her request hitting the spot. It was not his greatest fear, but not exactly one he wished to live by either. To some his mother’s name was beneficial, to others it was nearly a death sentence. How the hell was he to know where the Finvarra stood with her? Briefly his brows furrowed in that internal debate before he finally nodded and cleared his throat lightly.
“Strikarash, milady.” Now he just sounded like a soldier in the army. “My common name is Strike amongst the humans for their lack of proper annunciation. I hold the title of Moonshallow though by birth I belong to Alvaldr.” It felt as though he was babbling, the nerves racking on his mind. Generally he was a man of few words but many glares. Stupid court.
“I mean you no offense Lady Finvarra. It has been awhile since I was last here and my task at hand has me rather fogged.” The explanation was probably unnecessary, but it was better to show some sort of weakness purposely than trying miserably to hide it all. At least then he had perhaps the slightest of chances of seeming less moronic. The last thing he needed was another noble from another court angry with him. It was bad enough he had already earned that with the Slaugh.
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Post by Shaeleigh Finvarra on Jun 25, 2013 17:55:04 GMT
She knew right away that her soft approach had thrown him off guard. She hadn’t planned it that way; she hadn’t even meant to be pleasant to him. It must have been because she was growing weary of the people at court. Everything about it was grating on her lately. She missed her pets, the few humans that could find their way past her prejudice. All of them were dead now, very few naturally. Most of them receiving punishment by their own society, killed in the prime of their life. Stupidity ruled in the human world. Stupidity and fear.
The thought that he put into her answer did not serve to upset her. Instead, it served to appease her even more. In her opinion, it meant that he respected her enough to at least consider what he was saying and how best to come across. Not that she expected any less. Respect was an important aspect of life. She demanded it.
The mention of his given name brought nothing to mind. She honestly had no recollection of who he was, or to whom he might belong. It intrigued her.
The mention of his opposing family however struck a memory. Sharp and clear. Moonshallow. She knew the family he had chosen, if she was not mistaken. The witch had helped her once, or twice, with human related affairs. The nature witch did not question, judge or report, and that sat well with Shae.
Of course, she recognized his birth mother’s name. Any Fae of the Unseelie court knew of that Sidhe. Any smart Fae, at least. There was too much history, too easy to have something to use against someone else. Never hurt that the situation and gossip appealed to Shae. She enjoyed the drama of it, and couldn’t help but laugh at how embarrassed Alongya was over the entire circumstance.
She didn’t have a single preconception about Strike, she had never even thought about Alongya’s offspring. He didn’t interest her. At least, back then he hadn’t. Now was a different story. Strike had mistakenly stepped in more than he had bargained for.
She nodded absently as he spoke, not really listening anymore. Her mind focused on his history and the possibilities it opened up. She would be doing some digging. She had contacts that would make prying into his life their every waking thought is she asked. Though, asking was a nice way to put how she would approach the request.
“No offense taken. Easily mended.”
Of course, it was far from easy for the seamstresses that were given the task of repairing her frequently torn dresses. They had no room to complain, they were paid well, even if they were kept busy keeping up with her needs.
Regardless, the comment was off-handed. It was a practiced move. It showed how little she cared for her materials possessions, how easy it would be to replace the dress. If she could be angry over the dress and then simply cast it off, it would be nothing for her to do such a thing to everything and everyone. Of course, that was simply an appearance, one she strove hard to keep. No glamour needed, merely responses, appearance and actions.
Of course, she knew before she moved close enough to touch him that he couldn’t refuse her attention. Not without offending her and her entire family, right here in front of half the court. “So, tell me, Strike,” she said as she slipped an arm through his. She placed a specific emphasis on his humanized name. “Is your task finished, or yet to be accomplished?”
If she chose, she could make him look very bad at whatever task it was he had come to court for. She knew it, he should know it. She didn’t intend to carry out the threat. But Shae was a fickle Fae and could change her mind in an instant.
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Strike
Elite Member
Posts: 20
RP Level: Intermediate
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Post by Strike on Jun 25, 2013 22:48:10 GMT
There was nothing he could read from her at first and it was relieving. There was no given reaction to the name he provided settling some of those weary nerves. The simple acknowledgement to his words aided in his decision to brush off some of his concern. It was probably the worst thing he would ever do while in court, but if he was to move forward he needed to do something outside of his comfort bubble. No one else here had one so if he did, no wonder he would stick out like a sore thumb. Five minutes in the Mounds and he already managed to insult a noble and start a conversation about nothing to do with his cause. So far, everything was a job well failed.
He had always heard the Seelie were a sweet, generous people. Then of course many Fae said such a thing was a myth and falsehood. At least the Unseelie were up front. Though they liked to play games they also tended to speak their mind if they felt strongly enough on a situation. Apparently the Seelie were even more of manipulators as many said they only put on an act. Alongya had been Seelie though he heard slightly outcasted from the start as she was more blunt and fierce to her conviction. Strike could be the same way; at least he was when he was younger. Had they always belonged to the Unseelie truly and Alongya had been misplaced? Of course his father fit the role of Unseelie best as his mixed heritage was gruesome by Seelie standards. But the man apparently held no allegiance to any court. Even Slaugh.
With his mind wandering, Strike still did not miss her acceptance of his apology and he found himself genuinely smiling, nearly a full one at that. Shae held the potential of ultimately screwing him over and this all being an amusing game. At the same time, she easily could have been truly accepting of his company for distraction purposes or genuine intrigue in him. Of course he hoped for the more positive reasons though intrigue would be scary. Intrigue had a way of going from positive interest to negative control. Though, he could not see what she would want from him other than potential laughter for the next few centuries, as he was sure his embarrassment could probably offer. Despite noble blood he was not recognized favorably in the Unseelie court and Alongya’s stay had no last long enough for her to gain her own power. The Seelie court was a different story, though with their prejudice there he knew no amount of family power would save him from that.
Again his mind wandered and he was left surprised as she maneuvered closer, entwining their arms in a proper manner. Her use of his human name oddly brought slightly more ease to him. “Yet to be accomplished. But it is not a pressing concern, only a meaning of investigation.” Had she been a lesser Fae or noble with less family base, Strike would have managed a way to ditch her. Perhaps a rushed exit with uncomprehendible muttering, playing the crazy card being a favorite of his. Instead, he thought it in his best interest to appease her. Maybe he would gain the knowledge he needed? Or maybe if he was good enough at regaining some of his court political stature he would manage to gain brownie points in the right places. It never hurt to try. “Where may I escort you, milady?”
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