Lady Who?
It is an otherwise quiet evening in the Theatre DIstrict. Through even the lights of this block alone, the setting sun is a tangerine circus with few clouds. There is the sense that nothing will break the pause, this lag. All three theatres watch one another at this curious crossroads, their patrons having caught an early show before the more serious and dramatic of arts reserved for the night make their appearance. The odd busker strums tunes a block away while actors, designers, "talent", and the above the line costs of every theatre producer's nightmare lounge nearby.
Such is the nature of a crossroads, where all things meet before parting ways.
An open-air restaurant has been catered to with all of the aesthetic care and detail-- the linens that do not move in the wind, too proud to sway amongst the jacaranda blooms and emerald greenery-- of a Llyranesi. Rather than the plain lines and simple geometric harmony of balance, whiplash curls and sinuous but floral arcs race through everything, ensuring that whatever may come together, it seems to match.
On her way to host her soiree, Asphodel is stopped briefly in the street by the loss of some trifle. This pause and the obliviousness of its delivery causes a cart transporting goods to veer off course, where it slams clean through a table of very surprised actors and hits a stable.
The doors to the early evening show open, letting out those souls who sought something finer, something more divine in the weft of their poor souls. In fact, all theatres are letting out now, and just as actors and work crews are arriving, patrician and poor alike are struck by the scene of chaos that has erupted...
All except at the welcoming tables of ivory, lilac, and emerald splendor, where Asphodel is making her way. That's the thing about crossroads. They can be very inconvenient for just about everyone except one person.
"We're off!" Asphodel merrily tells the musicians, and a light string orchestra begins playing sweeter versions of very bawdy songs.
Harkashan has made some preparations for this particular 'soiree'. If he is going to make deeper ties between the Sith-makar and those of Alexandria, things like these will have to become something he understands. A place to make connections.
As such, he's made use of one of Asphodel's very own gifts.
Leaving very little to the imagination, Harkashan steps into the realm of the 'open air restaurant' wearing beautiful lilac silks across his body. Wrapped and tied around him by someone far more skilled tham himself into a tribal-fashioned toga. Tied in a wide ribbon and wrapping around him a few times, with the end lapel of the ribbon positioned like a loincloth. The other end hanging over his back as a makeshift cloak.
Because of the wrapping, much of his scales are absolutely prominently on display, along with the singular lavastone hanging between his sharp horns. His scales are practically gleaming because of a professional oiling job that had been performed on him.
He bears no arms, and no armor. Yet his feet and hands' claws are prominently on display. The lights of the area constantly toy with the reds, yellows, golden and blacks on his body, making it seem like there's a live lava-flow parsing through his very body as he steps along. A wave of heat coming off of him.
"Is this normal?" Harkashan inquires with Rune, since this all seems to be set up right in the middle of the streets. Softskins oft seem so obsessive about their crossroads and rights of way.
"You know," Telamon remarks to his companion, "when Lady Carrough asked for some suggestions, I was expecting she'd rent a festhall. Not rent part of the district." The half-sil is dressed in a new ensemble for the spring -- his white silk shirt now adorned with intricate silver embroidery, depicting soaring ravens, stars, and moons that jump out when the light hits the blouse just right. Below this he wears black trousers with similar silvery decoration, in a line along the outside of each leg, tucked into his black, silver-buckled boots. Over this he wears his sleeveless robe in deepest blue, and his circlet is set on his brow. His starry eyes are full of amusement and mischief -- as are those of his cohort.
"Indeed, my lord," the faerie dragon Jyndei chirps from his perch on Telamon's shoulder. "But I suspected as much from her demeanor. She has a surprising commonality with your lady wife -- the fey humor."
Telamon glances at Jyndei. "Lurking invisibly again, Jyndei?" he says with a smirk. "You're incorrigible. Alright, let's see what kind of mad gaiety our friend has brought to bear on poor Alexandria. It beats the hells out of dealing with fiends, wights, and werewolves." And so he ambles towards the pavilion.
Two men are walking down the street behind the cart which stops abruptly as it does. They are both Stormguardian by appearance. One an older man with green eyes and black hair, chuckles at the sudden misfortune, nudging his companion who is in fact an even taller youth at his side. The youth is fair of hair, and has bright blue eyes. He grins at the confusion caused by the cart and leans down to whisper in the older man's ear. When the man nods to his whisper he laughs a bit.
The older man clasps the the younger on the shoulder and they make their way together around the wreck toward the exiting crowd as the music swells into being. They don't seem terribly interested in the going's on really. More as though they have some business elsewhere perhaps. In fact, the older man's gaze is scanning the crowd as though looking for a particular individual. In fact, his eyes light upon Telamon and he starts to make subtle shift in that personage's direction.
A little social gathering? Casual dress? Schmoozing? Should Slixvah blend in? Or should she... yes... that's perfect.
Amongst the gathering is that of a rust red and white feathered egalrin woman. She's clad in a sky blue robe with rolling, swirling patterns of clouds and prevaling winds The ribbons that adorn her wings are a smooth gradiant from a daybreak orange to a deep cerelean hue.
Finding a moment to slide into the relative moment of calm, Slixvah swaggers her way into the open air restaurant. "Well, my, goodness," she croons, looking over everything and every one with a growing smirk in her eyes.
It is a rare occasion that draws Rune out of her traveling gear and into something at least resembling finery. A simple, sleeveless dress clings tight to her chest, accentuating curves to where it is cinched at her waist with a sash of lighter material. The skirt hangs long, but is slit up the sides for ease of movement. It also reveals that her tattoos actually run far further down her body than many might expect, seeming to stop just above her right knee.
The rogue is far more accented with jewelry than normal as well, with simple painted bangles on her wrists and her puzzle-necklace more visibly on display. Her hair has been recently re-dyed as well, the strands tinged slightly towards violet from her usual bold blue, likely by limited availability of dyes this time of year.
The sort of splendor that a Llyranesi event can bring are not lost on Rune, but it has been a very long time since she has attended one in any manner that even resembles being official. It is echoes of a time long ago which feels more like a dream than a memory. That is, other than carts crashing and gawking theater goers, that is new.
Looking over to Harkashan, the former scribe and emissary offers, "Well, this is certainly a little more unique than some of the events my father sent me to. I imagine that might be due to the... enthusiastic nature of our host." She raises an eyebrow. Though she may look to be unarmed and simply here as a guest, it's quite likely she has /something/ hidden on her. It's Rune, afterall.
Eztli has left.
GAME: Harkashan rolls Sense Motive: (19)+12: 31
Iskandar strides through the district until he arrives at the soiree. He's dressed in a tunic and vest and a long-tailed waistcoat to complete the ensemble. His attire normally would be a good fit at any Society gathering, and indeed the unbuttoned collar and sleeves rolled up almost to his elbows makes it look like this isn't his first celebration of the day. He quickly straightens himself up a bit before proceeding to enter. "Greetings!" he booms to anyone he passes near, with a nod and a smile. "Well-met!" he adds for anyone he recognizes.
Around the chaos and destruction, A tall glaive also proudly sneaks into the restaurant; a wide flat red and gold embroidered ribbon was fluttering around its haft. It was very much like its owner, upright horns with a fresh ribbon, and quite uniquely for Aelwyn, a gold chain. Rest of him was gleaming like Harkashan; ruddy autumn scales mostly exposed by his loincloth and the kneaded leather, but he also has wrapped a red fold of silk over his shoulder, held together by yet another golden chain that hugs around and under his other arm.
"Tch, if I had known the kind of music." The Dragoon says by himself, tail and tongue flicking alike, as he attempts to pick out the familiar faces; couple of which in particular. His step had that rolling, lazy looking gait - and his face carried a bit of a grin when he moves to touch Slixvah's wing. "Ribbon. Planning to make the skies themselves jealous?" He asks; but his orange eyes were not fully on her, but looking across the crowd.
Telamon hasn't noticed any watching eyes yet. Or perhaps he doesn't distinguish them from the others who might look at him. After all, when you're a member of the Shining Chalice, a sorcerer, married to the 'Temptress of Alexandria' (even if you detest that title for your wife)... you get attention.
The half-elf ambles over to where Asphodel is holding court, offering her a smile. "So, Lady Carrough, I hope my advice and guidance proved to be useful?" His eyes sparkle. "My wife sends her regards, but she's come down with a cold. She insisted I come, and..." He pauses, tilting his head, before continuing, "...make sure I supply her with a full report on what everyone is wearing." He chuckles softly. "In the meantime, may I present Jyndei, a good friend of mine?"
The little faerie dragon sits up straight, orange scales glittering as he preens. His voice is high pitched, as he chirps, "Greetings to you, Lady Carrough. I hope this soiree proves entertaining and productive."
Asphodel is applying those finishing touches, the sorts of things that really make or break a party. The operations of any social event are possibly the only thing more important than millenia-long estate planning.
"That tastes wonderful, darling," Asphodel tells a waiter carrying a tray of chocolate pastry.
"I don't work here, I'm an actor," the young man begins.
"Wonderful!" Asphodel exclaims, parting her hands in sheer joy. "You can pretend to be one! Otherwise I would have to explain to Master and Mistress Lupecyll-Atlon that you mistook their serving trays for prop." Her smile broadens, and the light string symphony picks up a false hint at her gesture, going into overdrive.
"Harkashan!" Asphodel cries out again, the symphony still mistaking her excitement for a cue. "You look glorious! Is that a bespoke original?" She asks, eyes sparkling. "Where is Rune? Also, has anyone seen Telamon? There's this whole ritual with lighting a hearth fire and a knot, I always burn my fingertips--" So saying, she turns almost into Telamon himself.
The two men adjust their path slightly to further make their way toward Telamon. However noticing him speaking with the elvish woman the older of the pair draws them to a stop and the younger looks at his companion in confusion. The noise of the crowd makes it hard to hear the exchange of words between them, but those observing might well notice that they are having a short discussion.
Finally they come to some agreement, and they continue on their path toward the gentleman in question, standing some length behind him silently waiting to either be noticed by him, or perhaps someone else around him.
The colorful red and white feathers of a certain Egalrin draws Rune's attention, lifting a hand to offer in greeting. "No disguises this time? I would have thought you'd relish the opportunity to dress up in something unexpected." Her head tilts slightly, the flutter of another set of ribbons also drawing her eyes. "Peace on your next, Twin." Rune offers out to Aelwyn, inclining her head. "I see even your weapon is dressed for the occasion."
Her ears twitch at the music, blue eyes scanning through the crowd and settling on a few other familiar faces. However, she focuses most keenly on those closest to her for the time being. She seems about to say something else when Asphodel calls out to Harkashan and then indicates herself as well. "Pleasant evening, Lady Carrough. Seems like you certanily know how to throw a party." Rune may just be acting /slightly/ more serious than normal. Too many years of training trying to kick in, it seems.
Slixvah clocks a number of folks she recognizes, as well some she doesn't. She finds a glass of wine and raises it towards Telamon across the way before she's beset by Aelwyn bopping his wing. "Oh! Heyas Flutter," she turns. "Oh absolutely. Figured I'd like ta be a walkin' sky." She looks him over, raising a feathered brow. "Ya look good, but, why bring a glaive ta a party? Ya gonna perform?"
Her attention shifts to the glowing lava-scaled makari and, oh? That's Harkashan, the host is yelling out, and- "Rune!" she coos warmly. "I love ta do a lotta bamboozlin' but jus' /couldn'/ pass up tha opportunity ta flaunt a lil'! And what of you! You're tha' one lookin' cute! I love what ya did with ya hair!"
She looks up to tall lava scale. "And you! Ya must be Harkashan! I'm Slixvah Unmesi, pleasure ta meet'cha! Don'tcha stand out, eh? Lovin' the robe, makes them scales pop, sugar!"
GAME: Slixvah refreshes spells.
"No doubt." Harkashan rumbles to Rune, before noticing Telamon and the two men approaching him. "Looks like Telamon has some friends." A touch to Rune's arm as he spots this. "He's rather important, isn't he?"
There's a pause there, "Well, maybe not friends. Business partners?" It's not like he's spotting any sour expressions or the like.
He then raises his posture and nods to Iskandar as he steps by; "Greetings." It'd be hard to miss the giantborne - even a few inches taller than him. From the corner of his eyes, he spots Aelwyn. He'd invited him after all. But before he can approach him, his name is being called out!
"Rune is here, right next to me." Harkashan remarks as Asphodel approaches him with so much energy. "And Telamon..." And she turns towards him. "Yes, that is Telamon." He remarks. Noticing the two men kind of awkwardly 'waiting their turn'.
"It looks like you've got company, Telamon." He notes to the man, before addressing Asphodel once more; "It is the silks you gifted me. I had one of my Kin, Aelwyn..." He motions at the one bearing the Ribboned Glaive in the near-distance, "... help fashion this up."
He lifts his arms a bit. "Does it... look suitable?" It would appear Slixvah thinks it does!
At being named, he touches a hand to his chest, and makes a fine curtsy to the feathered one. "Thank you for your kind words. I am indeed Deathsinger Harkashan." This one speaks a bit like Ous, he notes mentally. "Your blue robes go quite well with your whites and reds as well." He then expresses.
Iskandar's is drawn by some of the shouts and raised voices. When you're at a party, go where it's loudest, is his philopsophy. And it's never failed him before. As he approaches where Asphodel and the others are he hears someone mention her name. "Ah! You are the Lady Carrough? Then this is all your doing?...I salute you!" he beams at Asphodel. He looks around at the others nearby. "Quite a turnout! Some of the Heroes of this city, all together in one place. And for once not to deal with some monstrous beast or disaster!"
Telamon laughs softly. "Easy, Lady Carrough, easy! All is well, and all matter of things shall be well." He pats her hand, before suggesting, "That's what tindertwigs are for. You don't try sticking your hand in -- well, not unless you're resilient to fire. Then all bets are off."
Before Tel can expound further, Jyndei nudges him with his tail. The little dragon has turned around, and made eye contact with the two Stormgardians. Something passes between Jyndei and Telamon, before Tel says to Asphodel, "Excuse me a moment," with a smile.
Then he turns to regard the two men, his starry eyes glinting and his expression inscrutable. "May I help you, gentlemen?" His eyes linger on the older one, his stare calm and measuring.
Aelwyn bows his head towards Slixvah. "Why would this one not bring his glaive to a party?" He asks, folding his hand over it. His pupils narrow slightly. "Should this one have polished it better?" And then he turns his head and sees Rune. His lips were about to coil into a greeting...
... and he pauses. "... Twin?" He asks with a tilt of his head. Hmm. "This one supposes there is some similarity." He glances towards Slixvah, letting her fuss over at Rune and Harkashan, before he steps in closer himself. "Twin, Lava." He greets with respective bows of his head.
And after a moment, he reaches up and nudges at the clasp holding the larger sith-makar's, giving it a bit of polish. His lips part open. "And this one is grateful for Lava's invitation." He gives another bow.
When Asphodel appears though, he tenses quite visibly. "... Gold," He bows his head - just in case he is given a second of the day from their gracious host.
Asphodel leans in, bending at the waist almost like a tulip, and although her satin gloves run the length, she exposes the inside of her wrists to him by way of greeting. And she straightens up. "Your advice was flawless, my dear," She says, swaying also like a tulip in the wind, although this time to pluck a glass of wine from a passing tray.
"Telamon, do you remember that thing our fathers did? With the knot and the starting the fire or something?" She seems vague, but there is a guileless innocence that has her smiling nonetheless. "Without your taste and refinement, I would have commandeered the mess hall. It's tradition!" She says. "Also it's what the chef wants before he'll release the Dandelion Wine," she says, glancing off towards whatever the chef is doing. "With all of my heart, thank you. And please send my best to--
"Rune!" And the orchestra picks up again, the series of accidental leitmotifs given to every person logical in its own way. "Could you help Telamon with something?" She asks of Harkashan. And then, snapping her fingers when she thinks Hark cannot see, she mouths, 'Damn!' to Rune before extending an arm. "Heya," She says, smiling. "Walk with me?"
GAME: Harkashan rolls Perception: (1)+5: 6 (EPIC FAIL)
The older of the two men smiles graciously at Telamon, his eyes twinkling at the bit of chaos that is going on behind Telamon. "No intent to disrupt you... You are Telamon Lupecyll-Atlon?" This seems less a question and more a statement of fact; as though he is familiar with Telamon in spite of the fact that it's clear that Telamon does not in fact know him. "As I said though, we are pleased to wait until such time as you can draw yourself away from your... duties."
The younger of the two men is eyeing Telamon up and down as though considering how well Telamon might handle himself in a hand-to-hand combat scenario.
"It is nice not to have to deal with Werewolves and Demons for a day." Harkashan directs towards Iskandar with a jovial draconic tone.
He tries not to listen in on Telamon having his conversation and instead focuses on the others coming so close to him. "Aelwyn." He answers the glaive-bearer, watching him reach out to polish the clasp a bit. Touching his hand over the back of Aelwyn's in an appreciative manner. "It's shined quite well. You did a wonderful job, Aelwyn." He promises the runt.
"Asphodel, this is Aelwyn. The one who helped dress me." He explains to her. Before going "Hmrrrmm?" As she asks him to help Telamon with something. "I will let him speak of it, if he requires my assistance. I believe this meeting of his is not for this one's ears." He bids.
He misses the snap at Rune and the damn, and seems distracted by the bird and Aelwyn shining the metal for now.
"Sometimes you just have to make a show of yourself. And you've certainly accomplished that, my friend." A smile spreads on Rune's lips, followed by a hint of color in those freckled cheeks, "You like it? I couldn't find enough blue flowers for my usual dye, so Jacob suggested I suppliment with some of the purple ones. It's a little different, but I like it." With an almost shy expression, she tucks a few of the strands back behind one pointed ear.
To Harkashan's question on Telamon, Rune just inclines her head, "Of course he is. Both he and his wife have their own glamour and renown." Her eyes briefly follow over to the men in question, following the Makari's line of sight, but she seems to trust his read on the situation and gives them little regard. Instead, she just offers him some reassurances, "You look fine, big-guy." The Makari gets a touch to his arm.
Her expression shift sinto a small smirk at the strange look from Aelwyn as his own term of endearment is put back upon him. She doens't press the matter, though. She does drop her volume a little before admitting, "It's not like I came unarmed. Always better to be prepared, just incase." Though it isn't easy to spot where she might have hidden such things, unless one was actually looking.
The sound of music picking up a bit louder has her ears twitching back slightly, small responses compared to those of a full-blooded Sildanyari. However, she accepts the invitation and the arm from Asphodel, inclining her head, "Of course."
Slix's grin is less on her beak, but it dances in her eyes. "Thank you Harkashan!" she hums warmly, giving a little dip and a bow. She glances to Aelwyn. "Flutter, ya should know as good as anyone else tha' bringing arms ta a party is kinda rude, yeah?"
"Aww, thankies hon," she wafts a hand towards Rune. "Yeah! I dig it! Honestly it makes th' blue stand out mo' yeah?" She's busy fawning over Rune, but the host coming in to ask Rune for a walk gets her to abate somewhat and glance about. The egalrin ruffles her wings and takes a sip of wine. "A break from the chaos is grand. And necessary. Else fallin' ta despair can beget... problems. Hence why I flit about so much," she says to no one in particular.
He already had a vague sense of unease, and being asked for by name makes it deepen. Never a dull moment, that's his life. Telamon tilts his head slightly forward, ever so slightly. "Some call me that, yes." It's a somewhat fey response, but try being married to a fey-blooded girl without picking up some of the mannerisms. "If you have business to conduct with the Chalice, I'm afraid I'm here in an official capacity."
His voice drops a little lower, but it's still pitched to the ears of the men facing him. "Or is this something of a more ... personal issue? I admit to some curiosity, as those who come seeking me out seem to do so for serious reasons." His stare is unfazed by the younger man measuring him up.
Jyndei deftly slithers off Telamon's shoulder to the table, where he deftly slips among the flowers -- and disappears between one bouquet at the next.
"Great, I'm stealing you for lady time and logistics," Asphodel tells Rune, turning with the same smile to Aelwyn. "Oh, we've met before," she murmurs, winking at the man in passing. And to Iskander, she herself blushes. "Oh my," She murmurs. "Thank you! But the goal of any good host is to position people to their best advantage, and having you here is divinity atop heavenly, you shine from every angle!"
There are others mingling, joining. When you have accidentally put out of commission the other affairs of the effete, matters of state take precedence, and Asphodel leans in to whisper with Rune: "You know our security protocols. But we have actors, because wherever there is food..." Trailing off, she sorts out those arriving, all the while her eyes almost glow with mirth. "So nice to have you," She's telling someone. "
GAME: Telamon rolls sense motive: (6)+23: 29
Iskandar follows Telemon's gaze towards the two men. He looks between them for a few moments and then flashes a bemused smile before turning back to Harkashan and the rest of the conversation. He glances at Asphodel and then adds, "Iskandar, at your service!" considering his responsibilities as a guest fulfilled he steps back and glances around once more. And then smoothly and skillfully draws the attention of a passing server in order to procure a glass.
Aelwyn leans away from Harkashan and then looks towards Slixvah. He clicks his teeth. "This one is aware - but then she would be asking to make this one leave part of him behind." The Dragoon explains, then he moves to adjust one of her ribbons. "She surely understands."
At Asphodel's recognition, the sith-makar seems to get more tense again, but he bows his head. "We have and this one sees Gold is blending well with the city." He glances behind him towards the chaotic accident - but with a shrug of his shoulders he turns towards Harkashan, eyeing the commotion happening. "Twin is already being stolen from the Prince?" He asks with a low teasing rumble.
The older of the two men touches the younger on the small of his back, pressing just gently enough to urge the younger forward a half step. For a second something unhappy flashes in the younger man's eyes, but it's quickly covered. "A more personal matter yes. That would be accurate. You see, Micha here was eager to meet you."
Micha stands very straight, looking Telamon over another time. "I am Micha Kamyar. Not that the name likely means anything to you." He glances toward the the man at his side with just the edge of his gaze and then returns his attention to Telamon. "I have heard rumors about you."
"Whatever assistance you might need, I'll help where I can." Rune replies, though there is still a bit too much stiffness and formality to it. There is /something/ in the way she speaks that almost tickles a memory. So many social functions that Asphodel has attended in her time, so many people she has met in passing and yet there is something familiar in the way Rune talks, if not in her appearance.
As she walks beside the hostess, the rogue's blue eyes seem to be watchful. Even without her companion speaking about security protocols, Rune seems to simply remain on guard. That is, until the Llyranesi whispers something to her. Her brows lift, head tilting. It is not a whisper she responds with, but a statement, "My father is Archivist Miranore of Ylvaliel."
Telamon shrugs, an almost languid gesture. "Mmm. I hear a lot of rumors myself. To say nothing of the Crimson Pen novels. Though I admit, my -personal- favorite rumor is the one about how I am secretly the true ruler of Alexandria and I live on the surface of the moon." His lips quirk. "I think someone may have been into their cups a bit deeper than they should've been with that one."
His starry, glittering eyes fix on Micha's now, pinning the young man in place with a stare. No longer does he look bored or sleepy, but terrifyingly intent. "So tell me, Micha Kamyar, what business do I have with you?"
Iskandar has finished nearly half his drink and is tilting his head slightly to the side, trying to place the taste. At the sound of Micha's voice, Iskandar turns again to examine the youth more closely. "Is there going to be a duel?" he muses aloud. "I didn't realize those happened at Sildanyar parties." Iskandar tosses back the rest of his wine and then refills the glass himself, from a drinking horn he withdraws from somewhere under his coat. All of this is done with practiced ease, in fact Iskandar never has to take his eyes away from the proceedings between Telamon and his new acquaintance.
"Am I the prince, in this scenario?" Harkashan asks of Aelwyn, who normally refers to him as Lava. "I do not mind sharing." He then adds. "Nor is it theft, for she is not mine to claim as property."
Harkashan is here to make new connections. As such, he looks up to Iskandar and notes, "So tell me a tale, Iskandar." He rumbles; "A tale of heroism. A greatest deed." He offers to him.
Asphodel had something to say to Rune, but that revelation has even Asphodel at a loss for words. "That is a lot to deal with," She says softly, "So let us instead set it aside and confront whoever is trying to socially present themselves to Telamon." But she squeezes Rune's arm, a rare look of concern crossing her expression. She will return shortly with Rune, and after listening to Micha speak, she inserts herself. The fingertips of her right hand splay across her collarbone as she leans in with a radiant smile to say, "Hello Micha. It's such an honor to have you at my soiree. I'm Asphodel Carrough, or I guess, the Lady Carrough, but right now?" She gestures to nothing, and the music audibly sweetens. "I am the host of this parade and I love rumors. Before I have the pleasure of introducing you to my guests, may I ask a question?"
Initially Telamon's question earns nothing but silence, and then the older man looks up at his younger companion and the younger seems to gather his resolve. "I found an item, and it granted me a vision - of you." He distinctly does not look at the older man behind him. - Only for Asphodel to interject herself by touching him. He blinks at her sudden closeness, starting to step back only for the man at his side to touch him again and he simply stops moving. "Ah... yes. You may ask me a question."
He seems wholly uncomfortable all of the sudden.
Rune seems more than content to leave it at that. The bit of information she had provided Asphodel is surely something the two would need to unpack later. For now, her eyes follow towards Telamon and the strangers. "Sounds like a plan." After recent events, the half-sil has plenty of reason to be a bit protective around one of her few close friends within Alexandria.
So, she approaches, still attached to Asphodel's arm. She offers a smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes. "Pleasant evening." The greeting is given, followed by a nod of her head to Telamon, "Everything alright?" Ultimately, she trusts the other half-sil to know ho wmuch he can handle, but that doesn't mean that she won't back up Asphodel in her concern.
Iskandar finally looks away from the two men, to give Harkashan a broad grin. "Of course! I have many tales, and I love to tell them! But now may not be the best time," he nods his head towards Micha and the older man. "Look! This promises to be even better than a duel. It's a mystery!" He looks down between his now-refilled glass and his drinking horn, and then notices Harkashan himself doesn't seem to have a drink of his own. "Ale?" he offers the glass to the Sith.
Slixvah eyes the conversation going on with Telamon, but ongoings spurring around get her attention. "Well, yeah, Flutter," she hums. "Though in polite company, usually weapons are more... unseen."
She pivots more to Iskandar and Harkashan, present and listening to said tales. Or... maybe not. Ooh, is that hors d'oeuvres? Yoink!
"Allow me to properly introduce myself. I am Asphodel Lady Carrough, although this has more to do with being the last unmarried daughter and something--" she waves a hand dismissively, the symphony masterfully interprets, "-- that translates like 'Chief financial hereditary steward for asset inheritance lines' but is much prettier in Sildanyari. I just wanted to thank you for allowing me to make history.
"You see, the last time I witnessed someone dare to be a bore at a Lady Carrough party, it was my great grandmother. And oh," she closes her eyes and clenches her jaw momentarily, "The mountains shook for days. So I am interested to see what happens and what I do," she concludes, her friendly, open manner changing not one whit.
"My actual question was, who told -you- about this party? I've been doing this for a long, long time, and I have to be honest: this was not the best timing. I would schedule an appointment with Master Telamon. If I can overthrow civilization for all of an evening, you can write his office."
Telamon lifts his eyebrows as Asphodel and Rune step to his side, but he doesn't back up. Instead, he tilts his head, before flicking a stare at the older man. His gaze goes back to the youth, and he hmms. "Visions can lead you many places, but they are not always as clear as we might want or need." He lets that sink in, before continuing.
"Now, clearly this vision, coupled with this fellow's guidance..." Another stare at the older man, "... has made you a bit touchy. So what quarrel might you have with me?"
Aelwyn tilts his head as he watches all the goings on, but then he moves to flick his tail at Harkashan's calves. "This one is glad the Prince of Magma is eager to share. Maybe this one can steal his attention for a dance later." The draconian points out with a low rumble - but he reaches up and pats the taller sith-makar on his back when Iskandar turns around. "Stranger," He greets with a bow of his head. "It is refreshing to see someone who knows how to enjoy himself at a good party."
Harkashan lifts a hand. "No, I rather not drink." He notes, "Though this one might." Motioning to Aelwyn. Then, to Slixvah, he jokes aside to the ruddy one; "Ah yes, I do believe Softskins are prone to getting upset about exposed weapons in public." With a playful nictating membrane 'wink' at him.
"As for a dance, why not now?" He bids the glaive-wielder. "Though we may need to work with Lady Carrough on something that fits the dance that fit our kin?"
"Oh yeah!" Someone in the background yells in support of Harkashan's sentiment. He has collected a following.
Micha blinks at Asphodel, and the older man at his side interjects politely. "We told Telamon that we would be happy to wait until such a time as he was available, but he requested to know why we'd come. The truth is lady, that we didn't know that your party was going to be here at all. Merely that lord Lupecyll-Atlon frequented the theater district. Desiring to meet him, I suggested that Micha come here with me." He smiles thinly. "It does not behoove a lady to be so rude to her guests - even unexpected ones."
Micha blinks once and looks down at Asphodel. "It was not my intent to be rude, or... boring. I merely wanted a chance to meet this man whom I had vision of. If now is not a good time, then I will leave." He does not however move.
"Then you have my apologies," Asphodel says to both Micha and the older man. "Telamon is a very busy man and a good friend. I get defensive," she adds, staring up at him with a querying expression. "Are you right now at another, more chic party the rest of us don't know about?" Is her question to Telamon. "And now you're inspiring visions in poor young men?"
And at that, she raises her glass to half-cover her smile.
"I see," Telamon says in a calm voice, his eyes glinting again. "Well, visions and portents can be distracting things. Even terrible ones. I prefer to make my own fate -- and my own luck." Smoothly, he takes a glass off a passing waiter's tray. "The theatre district... hm. You would've been out of luck indeed had I not been assisting Lady Carrough. However, I do engage in business from the Shining Chalice meeting house, as well as giving lectures at the University."
He pauses, and looks wry. "Though the attendance at those is probably less about the subject matter and more about who's delivering it. Well, we were all young once. And prone to making mistakes."
There are times when Rune simply sits back and enjoys the show put on by others. In some ways, there is very much a similarity between Asphodel and Ravenstongue in that regard, as both often just get her to watch and pay attention. In this case, it is more the hostess' attitude and how she presents herself, the sort of thing that puts someone else in their place.
"Do you think this is a conversation for a wine, Tel? Or is this more of one for hard liquor?" It's an obvious question, trying to guage just how serious they need to be given the situation. "I'd be glad to go get refreshments for our guests if they plan on staying, but..."
The sudden shout from somewhere else has her ear twitching again, causing Rune to look back out towards the others before glancing back at the vision-having stranger.
GAME: Telamon rolls Will: (17)+13: 30
Aelwyn looks towards Harkashan, coiling his tail. "Indeed, why not, Prince?" The Dragoon asks. "Yet this one was being polite not to sweep him off right off his important conversations." His hand slides down onto his hip as he leans against his glaive. His eyes were looking at the elves and near-elves having their very proper and improper conversation with the very politely arranged and awfully bawdy songs. "... this one never had the taste for socialite."
Yet something caught his pointed ear and the ruddy sith-makar looks up towards Harkashan. "Hold on, appropriate music for our Kin's dance?" The draconian asks - completely taken off guard and barely held excitement.
Micha doesn't move. He grows still enough in fact that one might well think that he's stopped breathing entirely. It draws attention to the fact that the gentleman at his side is rubbing his back softly. A gesture to try and comfort the younger man. "I certainly do not wish to trouble you then. If I can, I may look for you at the Shining Chalice meeting house." He glances toward the man at his side without moving his head and his jaw twitches.
He still doesn't move though, perhaps trapped between Asphodel and the man behind him and unwilling to move either to move himself. The older gentleman smiles at Telamon. "Until next time then." He lowers his hand and the pair step back as if to leave.
GAME: Telamon rolls bluff: (13)+24: 37
"Indeed." Harkashan remarks, confused at the sudden call moments ago about 'Oh Yeah!'. Was it the subtle innuendo? Was it the offer for a dance? It shall remain a mystery. "A moment." He motions to Aelwyn, as he spots that Telamon is being freed from conversation, and steps up to Asphodel.
"Does your band know how to do something a bit more... quick paced and tribal?" He whispers to the Lady of the Night.
GAME: Asphodel rolls diplomay: (20)+diplomay: 20
GAME: Asphodel rolls diplomacy: (19)+4: 23
Telamon seems to shake off whatever dark mood was on him, his expression becoming congenial again. "Well then, I will look forward to the discussion! The Chalice welcomes tales and lore of such matters -- I imagine one or more of the other members will want to sit in on it if it's not too much of an imposition." When the older man finally departs with his friend in tow, Telamon's brow furrows, thinking.
Then he turns to Asphodel, smiling again, and offering her a bow. "Shall we continue, Lady Carrough? I'd hate to monopolize your party with my little unimportant problems."
Rather than immediately respond, Asphodel's smile blooms. "Oh indeed I do," she says, finally turning her gaze now that something clicks into place. She gazes up, up, up at Harkashan, bites her lip, and then calls out, "FIRE AND GOLD!"
"Micha, I would be the worst sort of person if I did not offer hospitality to one bearing a burden of a hard message from Eluna. I have walked that path." The band is striking up, and now there are other musicians, a pleasantly discordant harmony that rises throughout the theatre district. "Stay with us and leave your burden be for the evening."
Slixvah idly listens to the conversation, not wanting to draw more attention to the already nervous young lad. Visions and what not. The egalrin was pretty well versed on that sort of thing. Tensions rising. She sighs, thankful that Telamon is good at defusing.
Someone mentions dancing? There is music going, after all! Aelwyn looks stoked for it. And the music picking up! "Dancing! Yeah, I love tha'! Lezzgo! Flutter? Rune? Lava-man? Big guy?" she chirps, downing the last of her wine and sliding over to a more open space to partake in, as the Lucht say, getting jiggy with it.
Wordlessly Micha nods to Asphodel, but him and the man with him will linger on the outskirts of the ongoings rather than interacting with the other guests. Their presence there, but nominal. Though that might change if they are approached.
Asphodel laughs, quietly acquiescing to Telamon's offer, winking at him as she does so.
Drums. Yes, this is good.
"My thanks, Lady Asphodel." Harkashan bids to her, using her first name in favor of her last. Noticing the bird also sharing in the excitement over this, he steps to Aelwyn and Feathers.
"Shall we?" He bids to the ruddy one and Slixvah. And it isn't long before he steps into the mix and begins to move in the manner one would expect from a Sith-makar dancing to something deep in drum tones and ruckus.
Many tailswings are had, threatening softskins unfamiliar with these dances.
When the two men turn to leave, it is Rune who seems to come to the decision, "Liqour it is, I think." This is her appraisal of the situation, keeping a side-eye on the strangers. The comment from Asphodel about Eluna gets a tiny tightening of her lips, but Rune steps back as soon as the others do.
With that, she claims herself a drink and a bite to eat, watching the dancers more as a wall-flower for now. "At least they're enjoying themselves."
Aelwyn nods his to the renewed beat of the music, grinning from ear to ear as Slixvah 'gets jiggy with it'. "Tch, this one should have known she was a tiny dancer."
When Harkashan returns, Aelwyn bows his head and gestures with his hand; "Naturally." In truth, the short sith-makar had no clean idea of how his Kin danced. Yet the short makari carried with him his glaive to the dance floor - and soon he was circling around Harkashan, feet thunking down with the beat and tail sinuously weaving the air space with its larger kin. The glaive felt like a simple, if not deadly, addition to his sinuously moving body, as his body moves around and occasionally slides against Harkashan's and others'.
As the men retreat, Telamon smiles at Asphodel and Rune. "One should always find time for dance and cheer. We only have so many days here on Ea -- so while we live, let us live." He tosses back the wine effortlessly, before setting the glass on another passing tray. His eyes sweep around, and pause as he watches Slixvah and Harkashan dance.
"There's something you don't see every day," he comments with a grin. "Interesting tune, as well. Plenty of drums. Sounds like oruch clan-drumming, too -- I think someone's been looking for ideas in new places."
Iskandar finishes his own ale and then goes to look for another glass of wine. This time it's a much darker color, and Iskandar seems to enjoy it more than the earlier vintage. He joins a small crowd of onlookers to watch the dancers for a bit, tapping his foot and nodding along with the music being played. Before long though he turns away and wanders between tables, to look for other forms of entertainment.