[Ballroom]
Tina smiles, teeth gleaming. "Kirk..." She really isn't sure what to say. Some silly banter flies through her head, but she keeps it to herself.
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[Ballroom]
Tina smiles, teeth gleaming. "Kirk..." She really isn't sure what to say. Some silly banter flies through her head, but she keeps it to herself.
[Ballroom]
For once Kirk doesn't doesn't even think to run his mouth off. He's all together too caught up in Fettina's eyes. Rather than try and think of something to say that captures his thoughts, Kirk tried to take her chin in his hand and lean in for a lingering kiss.
[Ballroom]
Tina's chin is taken, and when she opens her mouth as if to say something, it's met with a kiss instead. Maybe it's better that way. She doesn't stop him, and she doesn't bother thinking about what it means.
Fettina just kisses back. Kirk's jacket-front is suddenly balled up tight in her little fists. They must look odd, in this pristine ballroom, with gladitorial combat occurring not three hundred feet away. But all the noise and commotion in the world is lost on Tina.
[Ballroom]
Kirk pressed her body against his with a hand placed firmly on the small of her back. It took some time, but he eventually broke off the kiss. "I missed doing that." He said with a small, but warm smile. And it was true too, no matter how much he'd tried to deny it before now.
[Xar'Cha Palace]
Ryldolin looks a bit surprised to suddenly find his brother there, but he wouldn't admit it to being surprised. He made a point to be more aware of his surroundings after that.
"I know that. I'm watching." Though he was really just thinking of the entertainment value the fight had.
[Ballroom]
Tina lingers close to Kirk after it's done. Her heart's going a mile a minute - a man's never made her feel quite so fluttery. "We should do it more often," she manages to say, trying not to stutter. Fettina feels like they should discuss this more seriously, but isn't sure how or when to begin.
[Ballroom]
Kirk has that front covered. "Do you want to get out of here? To talk a bit?" He asks. For once it actually appears that he really does mean talk, rather than other activities.
[Ballroom]
Well, she had wanted to try and mingle a bit - not too much luck at that so far. But, y'know, priorities. She nods quickly, and after a moment, tries to grab Kirk's hand. He can feel free to lead her wherever, at that point.
[Ballroom => Outside the Palace]
Kirk doesn't object to his hand being taken, and in fact gives hers a squeeze in return. He leads her outside the palace and slowly away from the structure. He doesn't have any particular destination in mind.
"I know this is a bit sudden. I've been thinking a lot lately." Kirk begins. "I know we've got a comfortable arrangement going right now, and I don't want to break that if you're not comfortable with it, but I'd like to give us another shot." He looks at her for her reaction.
[Outside the Palace]
Reactions are... mixed! She was expecting this after the kiss, that's readily apparent in her expression, but it doesn't seem like she was ready for it. No forethought whatsoever.
After a few seconds of staring intensely at the ground, Tina turns her gaze back up. She smiles and stammers, "I would like that. I would really like that." She knits her brows together regretfully. "But I can't just... jump right in again, Kirk. Clearly, after last time, I've got some unresolved issues. With my personal freedom. With you, and Shrike, and Evan." Tina squeezes the drow's hand. "Can I have a little time?"
[Outside the Palace]
Kirk nods. He doesn't appear to be put off by this response at all. "Of course. I understand. And don't hesitate to let me know what you need to make this work. I know I wasn't exactly perfect either." Kirk says with a reassuring smile. "If it'd make it easier for you, we could consider an open relationship. Or do something else differently."
[Outside the Palace]
"I appreciate the thought, Kirk, but if it's gonna be open then what's the difference?" Tina asks, furrowing her brow and smiling at him skeptically. Her face softens again just a moment later. "So you really want this, huh?" From the sounds of it, Kirk is willing to do an awful lot.
[Outside the Palace]
There's just the slightest bit of hesitation before Kirk nods. "Yeah, I do." Even if he does realize it'll be difficult, he actually does want it.
[Outside the Palace]
Tina smiles, trying to fight down the butterflies in her stomach, and steps forward to give Kirk a hug. Fettina's body molds against his, thin and fragile, with her face suddenly buried in his chest. She's cold - shivering a bit, in fact. Her dress isn't made for winter-time by any stretch of the imagination.
[Outside the Palace]
Kirk puts his arms around her in kind. It's then that he notices her shivering. "Maybe going outside wasn't the best plan." he lets go of her to slip off his jacket and try and put it over her shoulders. "Do you want to go back inside, or somewhere else?"
[Ballroom]
Endrik doesn't speak drow. Not much. Not yet. Sszy's reaction told him most of what he needed to know. This had, at the least, been a close friend at one point. "What do you mean to do, Sszinyon?"
[Entrance]
"You too." Raril answers quietly, before slipping into the crowd. He kept a cautious eye on his brother as he wove his way towards Zee.
Din follows Ilpholin wherever she leads, and will listen as well as his thick skull will allow.
[Dais]
"Such creations are a two edged blade. It could be a blessing or a curse, whichever way the blade is used to cut. Its purpose, is decided by whosoever wields the blade, and they must be careful not to cut themselves in the process." The Matron laughs, turning to Irzdayle. "My mother was not so careful." She says, looking back to the fight.
[Ballroom]
Rather than reply verbally, Sszinyon simply drew both of his swords. The sound caught the attention of the guests standing nearby. The smart ones were quick to give him some space. It caught the attention of the guards as well, but they were hesitant to move against a noble of House Xar'Cha, especially one as skilled as Sszinyon.
Sadei and Raven are both watching the goings on with trepidation. They can both tell something's about to happen. But what? That remains to be seen.
Zee wrinkles her nose at the situation. Unlike the knight she can speak Drow just fine. And the mean of the words spoken aren't lost on her. At any moment things could become... very stickly. No one likes stickly situations. Especially if they devolve into a sticky wicket.
Because how is someone supposed to deal with a sticky wicket?
"I'm going to put a stop to this nonsense."
Time to do something diplomatic!
Zee turns away from Sszy and those chatting with him and begins to walk toward the Matron's throne. There's a pretty good chance that she's planning on having a chat. The chat may or may not be about the impending sticky wicket.
Dias
A double edged sword indeed. You mention your mother again. I fear I have been out of proper circles for longer than I would have otherwise wished to be. What did become of her?
Tread carefully. Such topics are sharp and pointy. Much likes the swords that Sszinyon fellow just drew. Irzayle takes a mental note that avoiding him was a good idea. Of course, now there is somebody else approaching.
They gives a quick glance at Aly'ithra to gauge how close she is to leaving.
[Ballroom-Palace]
Teb gritted his teeth at the scene unfolding before him. "Ryldolin, stay here." He ordered his little brother before making his way to the raised dais and the Matron Mother.
The assassin moved with surprising speed through the crowd of people, making it to the Matron just about as Zee gets there. He dropped to a knee before the Matron. "Forgive me Mother Matron but a matter has arisen that needs to be discussed. Your brother Sszinyon has drawn weapons. The guards are not sure how to proceed, how do you wish to resolve this breach of defense and etiquette?"
[Ballroom]
"Oh." Endrik looked at the swords, then up at Sszinyon's face. "This may not be the... wisest course of action. I am with you, if you need me, but I ask you to consider what you do carefully."
Ballroom
"Take care, little brother," Ethelay says quietly. Her intention at first is simply to take a few steps back. Non-interference is her mantra. But then she sees that Tebtranlyn has left Ryldolin alone. She supposes he feels his first duty is to the Matron rather than to his mother and brother, but she's still displeased. She moves towards Ryldolin herself, hoping that whatever violence Sszinyon intends to unleash won't spread far.
Delisle inwardly facepalms when she sees the unknown drow drawing swords. She really hopes it's part of the battle performance, and really fears it's not. Then there's the question about whether the combatants are freely dueling, or if there is compulsion involved. And what do they do if one of them is killed? Should they intervene now and try to stop the fight before then? But what if it's only intended as a sparring display and we cause the Matron to lose face by interfering? I am going to make Vasquez pay for putting me through this. I don't know how, but I swear I will.
The unimportant drow continues to be unimportant and move inconspicuously with the flow of the crowd, never seeming to have a set goal, but slowly drawing nearer to the dais.
[Ballroom]
Vyrn has a hand on his holstered pistol, ready to draw if things go bad. The former Emperor was brought on for the express purpose of not putting up with things, after all, and he will not hesitate to start shooting if the situation calls for it. Any less would simply be a failure, in his mind.
But he doesn't do such a thing quite yet.
Instead, he exercises an ability most don't even know he has, reaching out and trying to read the immediate emotions of Sszinyon and the dueling combatants. The man is an empath, despite rarely exercising the power.
He hopes that might provide some insight.
Ballroom
Stepping out from a hefty clump of deadtime that will hopefully go unremarked upon, Elvanriina watches the spectacle of the drider fighting the gladiator with a lingering look of distaste marring her face, "How wasteful..." She remarks softly, but whether she's referring to the drider or the combat for sport is left up to the imagination. Considering the state of her house, she probably holds the lives of otherwise useful members of society in higher standing than most drow, male or not.
And then Sszy draws his blades, and despite being a powerful matron in her own, right the young drowess decides discretion is the better part of survival in this case, and steps back against the wall. It wouldn't do to have a crazed murderer attempt something just because she was close by. If someone is going to deal with him, it won't be her.
Tina accepts the jacket and huddles close to Kirk again, glancing back toward the entrance. "Lets go back. You still gotta show me how to dance like a drow." She looks up at her... boyfriend. To be. Something like that. Either way, she liked this already. "Then we can get wasted on elf drinks with funny names."
Naitiri is (thankfully) distracted from the gruesome spectacle by a flash of steel. She turns fully to watch Sszinyon, perhaps challenging someone to a duel, then looks around for that drow Sornnolu. Perhaps he could explain what was going on.
[Outside the Palace]
Kirk laughs and puts his arm around Tina. "That sounds like an excellent plan." He leads the way back up to the palace. Shame it's not a friendly environment right now.
The two no doubt find that out in moment after walking through the entrance. Tina will feel Kirk's arm tense as his eyes dart around, taking in the situation. "Something's happened." He warns.
Secluded spot
Once Ilpholin has headed far enough away from the palace to be personally satisfied they weren't followed and once Ilpholin believes she has found a place secluded enough to talk privately, she'll stop. And go to gently grab Din and press him against a wall, following up by pressing herself into him sensuously, cooing at him.
"Here's the deal. We can get room. I'll sleep with you and it'll be the best night of your life. Afterwords, I'll imbue my essence in you. You'll become a draegloth. Stronger, smarter, better than you've ever been, capable of feats you've only dreamed."
Her seductive words change, taking on a dangerous undertone, eyes growing distant.
"We'll start our own family. The half-breeds. The outcasts. We'll sap their strength by welcoming those like you with open arms, ripping away their underclass in droves. The Ghuanaers." Cursed Blood. "I'll rule and they'll rue..." Ilpholin whispers to herself.
"Or... you can leave. And return to your mundane life. Your choice."
[The Entrance]
Not so much a commotion, but the signs of things stressing to the breaking point are obvious to Kirk. The people gathers near the matron, the tension in a number of the guests, and of course Sszy himself.
"Something's set him off." Kirk nodded toward Sszy. "And no one likes it."
[Ballroom]
Ryldolin sees his mother approaching, but something else occurs to him. Someone would have his head if something managed to happen to Elvanriina while he was supposed to be accompanying her, whether he could help it or not.
So before his mother reached him, Ryldolin broke into a run over to the young matron, being sure to give the fight a wide berth. Once there he'll just stand not far away, waiting for her to address him if she so chooses.
[Dais]
After a brief conversation with her brother, Erelae moves to intercept Zee at the base of the steps to the dais. "Councilor, I don't believe we've been introduced." She says with a polite bow. "I am Erelae Xar'Cha. Lord Raril's eldest. Is there anything I can help you with?" Her offer was genuine, though her motives were mixed. Primarily, she was running interference for the Matron, keeping a foreigner from bothering her. Erelae also watched Zee's reaction to her introduction. How would she take that news? What kind of woman had her father found on the Surface?
"She fell during a battle with another House." Or such was the official truth. "House Xar'Cha prevailed, of course, when I stepped up to take her place." The Matron recounts, a satisfied smile on her lips.
When Tebtranlyn arrives, her smile disappears into a frown. "If it is a matter of defense, should you not be handling the situation? Did you not tell me earlier that it was your duty to see that all of us remain safe this evening?" The matron's hands flashed a short sign as she refolded them in her lap: No deaths.
Aly'ithra had shrunk back near the wall behind the throne. She was pointedly avoiding the spidery legs of the throne, and looking for a safe way to exit, should the situation turn bloodier than it already was.
[Ballroom]
At Endrik's words, Sszinyon hesitates. Looking back at the Paladin, he says in low tones. "I will not lose you as well to this. However, I cannot stand by and do nothing whilst he suffers." The drow's eyes flare red.
Vyrn finds it hard to get a reading on Sszinyon's, but his body language was clear. He was angry. The gladiator was far simpler, there was blood lust there, and he was enjoying the fight. The Drider's emotions were nearly overwhelming. He was in pain. Terrible, terrible pain.
Naitiri will notice that Sornnolu is standing up near the Dais. Should she approach, he will step down to speak to her.
[Secluded Spot]
"A draegloth?" Din wondered aloud. To a lowborn drow like him, such beings were practically myth. Never being a man of words, he simply leans down to try and kiss Ilpholin. Cautiously.