Post by Iona on Sept 18, 2011 19:28:05 GMT -6
Back in the courtyard, the man covered the wounded man's mouth with his hands, glancing around. "What are you plotting, boy? Trying to get me caught?" 'Cause that never worked. Just saying," he said casually, leaning back on the balls of his heels. Attikus glared back at the man in puzzlement and hate. "You. Hastling," he grunted between gasps of pain, his face contorting from the searing waves of agony his side emitted. Hastling clapped his hands. "Ooh! I love that game! Me. Thief. You. Killer. It's like that story with an explorer's prostitute and a tree dwelling monkey man! It's one of my favorite novels, actually. Classic bit of literature, that is." Even in his present state, Atitikus gave Hastling a bemused stare.
The thief slapped the side of his head. "Ah! Almost had me there, almost got distracted, did I now? An' oo do ye think ye are, goin' bout doin' tha', huh?" Hastling asked, a strange accent becoming very clearly appearant in his speech. The man paused, rubbing his throat, looking both confused and sorrowful. Attikus grinned grimly. "Miss Auria, don't you? Miss Eagrana, back with its rains and cobbles, its green? You miss the good ol' boys, Asrin and Il Ragnirah? ...Surely, you have not forgotten Chrysanthe already?" Attikus whispered to a very forlorn and vulnerable looking Hastling, whose eyes had gotten wide and glazed over in fond memory. "You loved Eagrana and Chrysanthe greatly. But stealing was and always has been your beloved mistress, a love above all. And it had been what got-" Attikus's words broke off into another pained cry as Hastling, happiness gone, cruelly drove the shaft deeper into the Mycenlaean's side, his pale face stone-like. Blood oozed between his long fingers as he held his hand there.
"Why are you here, bastard?" he repeated, his voice frosty, his words sharp with an icy rage. He brought his hand away and listened to the young man's groans and cries with a slight, bestial pleasure. "Information. Personal gain. A look at the queen...gods damn you Wessley..." Attikus rasped, brought near to tears from the pain. He threw his head back, his bright blond hair stuck fast to his face from his sweat, his weapons laying scattered uselessly around him.
Then, Hastling watched a figure fall from a high window with child-like fascination, whistling softly to himself, going from high to low, as the body fell. Attikus, his lip bloody from biting down on it, gratefully began to sink out of consciousness, falling back hard on the ground. "Pyrrha.." he whispered as his last reason, his vision going black as blood continued to pour out of him. Stunned, Hastling, stared at the warrior assassin's form, then strode out into the night, leaving the young man to bleed out, giving the fates the decision to let him live or die.
...............................................
"We will not abandon Hyrule, Irene. Our sole purpose is honestly to defend the countries in a discreetly, without all the riffraff of military might and land and people like other organizations tend to do. The king is fine on his own with dealing domestic matters such as surrounding countries and his own kingdom. You, however, under the secure cover as the flea brained king's wife, can ensure the kingdom's safety on a larger scale," Klaus explained. The fire had now weakened, the brandy in their cups gone. The queen was brooding in her seat, a light flush in her cheekbones from her drink.
"I refuse from asking what sort of payment you ask for, as you've repeatedly turned the chance down. But I cannot thank you enough for you support, King Solas," the queen said, rising from her seat with the help of the king thief, her hand extended regally in Klaus's scarred and rough hand. Klaus released her hand and bowed slightly, smiling very slightly. The gold ring on his finger glimmered in the dying firelight, the golden emblem of a sun and an eagle holding a scroll and a dagger made appearant.
"We'll be in touch," he said and promptly walked off into the dim darkness of rows upoon rows of shelves, eventually disappearing through a trapdoor only he and the queen knew of. After a ponderous moment, the queen left the hidden library and silently walked through the door, closing it behind her, coming part of the wall as it had been, perfectly camoflouged.
Irene smoothed the folds in her soft, light dress and straightened her diadem on her forehead. "Prepare my wardrobe. The Eight of Nine has yet to meet," the queen told the young woman dressed in a rich rust colored dress, her wild hair tamed by a gold net. Red wings were tattooed on the edges of her eyes, her large brown eyes focsused on the courtyard window and on the inky, blood filled water, and how the moonlight fell so gently on the bloody, slender form of a fallen man. The queen, strides ahead of her, saw what she was gazing at.
"A necessary evil, your hand guided by fate, the arrow by destiny. Come. There are preparations to be made, Pyrrha," the queen said, laying a hand on the woman's shoulder before walking off once more, the guards bowing to her regal and majestic self. Reluctantly, she followed, ignoring the guards, the bows seemingly leaden weights on her leg, the crossbow an evil, heavy thing concealed in the back of her corset.
[Exit Klaus, Irene, Pyrrha and Hastling]
..................................................
A deep, black cloud swallowed up the moon, extinguishing the light. The guard patrolling the garden shivered at the sudden lack of light and made his rounds quickly before leaving the courtyard to grab a torch, the clatter and clack of his armor fading off into the blackness. Attikus lay there, unnoticed, his blood still slipping into the moat of water. There was a soft, delighted sound, a cross between a snicker and a chuckle followed by the shiffling of feet. "You would like to borrow a mask, yes? Perhaps when you are well again, hm? I give my masks to all, but the winds of the temples speak your name. I shall make you well. Yes..."
The cloud passed and the Mycenlaean assassin was gone, every aspect of him simply disappeared, save for his blood, which stained the grass, the stones and the water. The guard returned, once again making his rounds but with the safety of the light of a torch, the soles of his boots casually getting painted with blood as he whistled a well known love song, clinking away as the night blackened, then died away into dawn.
[Exit Attikus]
The thief slapped the side of his head. "Ah! Almost had me there, almost got distracted, did I now? An' oo do ye think ye are, goin' bout doin' tha', huh?" Hastling asked, a strange accent becoming very clearly appearant in his speech. The man paused, rubbing his throat, looking both confused and sorrowful. Attikus grinned grimly. "Miss Auria, don't you? Miss Eagrana, back with its rains and cobbles, its green? You miss the good ol' boys, Asrin and Il Ragnirah? ...Surely, you have not forgotten Chrysanthe already?" Attikus whispered to a very forlorn and vulnerable looking Hastling, whose eyes had gotten wide and glazed over in fond memory. "You loved Eagrana and Chrysanthe greatly. But stealing was and always has been your beloved mistress, a love above all. And it had been what got-" Attikus's words broke off into another pained cry as Hastling, happiness gone, cruelly drove the shaft deeper into the Mycenlaean's side, his pale face stone-like. Blood oozed between his long fingers as he held his hand there.
"Why are you here, bastard?" he repeated, his voice frosty, his words sharp with an icy rage. He brought his hand away and listened to the young man's groans and cries with a slight, bestial pleasure. "Information. Personal gain. A look at the queen...gods damn you Wessley..." Attikus rasped, brought near to tears from the pain. He threw his head back, his bright blond hair stuck fast to his face from his sweat, his weapons laying scattered uselessly around him.
Then, Hastling watched a figure fall from a high window with child-like fascination, whistling softly to himself, going from high to low, as the body fell. Attikus, his lip bloody from biting down on it, gratefully began to sink out of consciousness, falling back hard on the ground. "Pyrrha.." he whispered as his last reason, his vision going black as blood continued to pour out of him. Stunned, Hastling, stared at the warrior assassin's form, then strode out into the night, leaving the young man to bleed out, giving the fates the decision to let him live or die.
...............................................
"We will not abandon Hyrule, Irene. Our sole purpose is honestly to defend the countries in a discreetly, without all the riffraff of military might and land and people like other organizations tend to do. The king is fine on his own with dealing domestic matters such as surrounding countries and his own kingdom. You, however, under the secure cover as the flea brained king's wife, can ensure the kingdom's safety on a larger scale," Klaus explained. The fire had now weakened, the brandy in their cups gone. The queen was brooding in her seat, a light flush in her cheekbones from her drink.
"I refuse from asking what sort of payment you ask for, as you've repeatedly turned the chance down. But I cannot thank you enough for you support, King Solas," the queen said, rising from her seat with the help of the king thief, her hand extended regally in Klaus's scarred and rough hand. Klaus released her hand and bowed slightly, smiling very slightly. The gold ring on his finger glimmered in the dying firelight, the golden emblem of a sun and an eagle holding a scroll and a dagger made appearant.
"We'll be in touch," he said and promptly walked off into the dim darkness of rows upoon rows of shelves, eventually disappearing through a trapdoor only he and the queen knew of. After a ponderous moment, the queen left the hidden library and silently walked through the door, closing it behind her, coming part of the wall as it had been, perfectly camoflouged.
Irene smoothed the folds in her soft, light dress and straightened her diadem on her forehead. "Prepare my wardrobe. The Eight of Nine has yet to meet," the queen told the young woman dressed in a rich rust colored dress, her wild hair tamed by a gold net. Red wings were tattooed on the edges of her eyes, her large brown eyes focsused on the courtyard window and on the inky, blood filled water, and how the moonlight fell so gently on the bloody, slender form of a fallen man. The queen, strides ahead of her, saw what she was gazing at.
"A necessary evil, your hand guided by fate, the arrow by destiny. Come. There are preparations to be made, Pyrrha," the queen said, laying a hand on the woman's shoulder before walking off once more, the guards bowing to her regal and majestic self. Reluctantly, she followed, ignoring the guards, the bows seemingly leaden weights on her leg, the crossbow an evil, heavy thing concealed in the back of her corset.
[Exit Klaus, Irene, Pyrrha and Hastling]
..................................................
A deep, black cloud swallowed up the moon, extinguishing the light. The guard patrolling the garden shivered at the sudden lack of light and made his rounds quickly before leaving the courtyard to grab a torch, the clatter and clack of his armor fading off into the blackness. Attikus lay there, unnoticed, his blood still slipping into the moat of water. There was a soft, delighted sound, a cross between a snicker and a chuckle followed by the shiffling of feet. "You would like to borrow a mask, yes? Perhaps when you are well again, hm? I give my masks to all, but the winds of the temples speak your name. I shall make you well. Yes..."
The cloud passed and the Mycenlaean assassin was gone, every aspect of him simply disappeared, save for his blood, which stained the grass, the stones and the water. The guard returned, once again making his rounds but with the safety of the light of a torch, the soles of his boots casually getting painted with blood as he whistled a well known love song, clinking away as the night blackened, then died away into dawn.
[Exit Attikus]