Faction The Red Funeral || Braxant Covenant

[Tycho Amnen]

"I want the artifact. Make it easy. Just hand it over."

Came a voice from behind him accentuated by the sharp end of a blade poking his back. He sighed softly.

Tycho Amnen was not a man of great patience and what little he had was worn thin by that gutless flatterer Ulysses Renoux, his illegitimate idiot daughter, that cold hearted harpy Deyanira Draco, and most of all her Ill-mannered Ill-shapen son.

He'd been aware of someone following him, though he would have sensed it sooner if his mind were not occupied. His patience for that had gone rather quickly as well and rather than try to flee his pursuer or run them off with the aid of Amnen Justicars he had allowed them to catch him.

"What artifact?" Tycho Amnen asked, playing the fool.

He meant to frustrate her. Yes, her. His assailant was a girl. Young by the sound of her and desperate by the pounding of her heart. Tycho could feel her through The Force. She was on edge but not, he thought , because of him. No, he had the sense that robbing an old man in an alley was one of the easier things this young girl had done in her life. It was not fear that gripped her but excitement. She thought herself so close to her goal and it blinded her to what he was.

With speed no man his age should posess Tycho Amnen spun away from the girl and her knife, turning to face her. His left hand reached for her wrist in a snap, his right hand was coming down to deliver a hammer blow to her hopefully captured wrist.

The blow if struck shouldn't be hard enough to break the wrist but she would feel it and she would hopefully drop her weapon.

Aliris Tremiru

 

[Aliris Tremiru]

"Don't play coy. I know you h-Hey!"

Oh. Chit was fast. Faster than her, but she wasn't some typical thief. Aliris was determined. Probably a bit too much as when her wrist was snatched and he brought his fist down to break her wrist, she didn't hesitate to drop her blade. Into her other hand as she swiped out for his side regardless. Even as pain numbed her mind.

"Just hand it- Kark! That hurt!"

Tycho Amnen

 

[Romulus Vel]

H O U S E • A M N E N​

Outfit: x​

"Will you do me a favor?" she asked. "Arlo may be off exploring, would you check in on him? If he's already back at the ship, then I believe @Tymair Amnen is in the city as well."

"Uh, huh, sure. There she goes. Bye-bye, I better get going."​

She really left me. Deep breath Romulus, don't lose your composure, you work for her family. Okay, I need to get Arlo Amnen . Whose idea it is anyway to leave the kid on his own in this treacherous, poisonous city. People often call me cruel, distasteful, heartless, yet I would never leave a loved one unaccounted for, the last time I did, she was taken away from me, forever.

On the way outside, a glimpse of a shiny little ornament caught my eyes. It looks like a silver candelabra, light, and pocket-sized. It just happened to be located in the far-side of the room, further from where the important royalties are. It also doesn't seem to be among the most prized possessions of the house, as it is put outside of the cabinet, on a table on the way out, and in-between several other ornaments indicating its purpose as just another additional decoration. Yet somehow, there is something about this candelabra that attracts me. On top of the hall is a 360° motion capture camera. I can perhaps hide behind someone and slip out, but they have caught the entirety of my body in the system. They could pinpoint the time it went missing and see my back figure on the way out. Maybe another day. For now, the Draco-inscribed champagne glass will have to satisfy my insatiable hunger. I left mine on the table while swooping another before I made my way out of the room and out of the keep.

The street of Entralla is full of market stalls and bustling with people from various economic backgrounds. Most of them sport joyous looks on their face. It's probably a combination of the weather and the great big funeral. If it was a coronation demolition derby inside, it's a giant casino out here. Whispers of speculations come in and out of my ears. Is it going to be better than the late Lord Elend. Is the alliance going to stand. Who is going to marry who. All kinds of stuff, betting their life-savings, over bunch-loads of alcohol, on the future of the system. It's hilariously amusing how powerless these people are over their own life. There is a salient feeling of hopelessness lingering in the air. Entralla. Baroque architecture, low-rise buildings, walking spaces. It's a one-of-a-kind time capsule.

I was halfway walking past a bridge when I saw a familiar face and two less familiar ones. The two, the hostage-princess of House Renoux and a justicar. Not the hunk meat that caught my attention earlier, but I have seen him nonetheless. The friendly face is the one and only captain steal-your-girlfriend, Tymair Amnen. That obscenely sharp jawline reeks of smugness, this is not a diplomatic play, the hostage-princess is not of any value to the house. Tymair is definitely trying to manipulate the poor young lady with his sick, sick venomous words. Tymair might have seen Arlo, however, so his presence is not very much pointless. And I know just exactly how to ask him without looking desperate in front of the Renoux. Approach the lady and the justicar from behind, wave to Tymair so he would wave back, then the Renoux would think that I was invited to the conversation. Nothing bad will happen, right? Right. I approached the group fully ready, lines exercised in my mind.​

"Well well well, look who we got here, the Heartbreak Kid himself. Hey hey buddy, enjoying the beauty of the free market illusion out here in the mercantilist capital of Braxant?"​

I can't help but grin as I saw Tymair Amnen 's face slowly transforms from suggestive to irritated. Without giving Tymair any chance to retort, I shifted my attention to the hostage-princess, Cyressa Tiberos.

"My lady, Romulus Vel, good samaritan, patron of the arts, honorary guest of House Amnen." ​

I offered my hand to the fair lady, then nodded my acknowledgement to the justicar, Aito. There is a sense of uneasiness up in the air. Might be confusion, might be awkwardness, most likely somewhere in-between. Mission accomplished. Lest us weep for the death of romance, done. Now, to the main course.

"Look ladies and gents, I have to apologize. I might have caught myself in quite a rush at the moment, I've promised to get something for Arlo from the Keep. Have any of you maybe bumped into our baby brother earlier?"

 

[Arlo Amnen]

H O U S E • A M N E N
​

(Post Soundtrack: "Karnaca Epilogue")
Apparel: [X]

“I’ve money on the war picking right up when they leave their chambers,” a commonman said. His harsh tone made Arlo wince inside.

A woman across the way chimed in, “My money’s on House Draco. Once they’re through with the pleasantries, that is.”

Arlo slowed his feet as he went by, not stopping, only listening. He had three very important rules today, strictures that would keep him safe in the midst of the Red Keep’s ubiquitous tension:

-I| Eyes, open |I-
-I| Mouth, shut |I-
-I| Heart, Amnen |I-​

Simple words, but they would help him stay alive. Things were tense enough without debating who would be victor in a war they hoped to end todat. The fleet-footed boy resumed his pace, moving along before the commoners mistook him for an eavesdropper or spy. His boots thudded against the flagstones as he made his way back toward the Keep. Arlo's eyes

He hadn’t been gone long, nor was given hard limits on where he could venture, but he still felt that he may have strayed too far from the protective watch of House Amnen. After all, if he was far enough from the Keep to hear such bold commentary in the streets, well… he was too far.

Besides, he was due to check in with Romulus Vel by now anyway.

He hoped for good news, that the three Great Houses had conceded to peaceful terms, but that was boyish naivety. They were likely just scratching the surface of peace-talk, assuming they hadn’t gotten stuck on the sticky veneer of political tension and bad blood along the way.

Regardless of the Braxant’s political situation, Arlo was eager to spend the rest of his day with Romulus. It felt good to be alone sometimes, but in such an unfamiliar place as Entralla, it was best to be with someone you trust.

 

[Cyressa Tiberos]

Wearing: XoXo
Location: Nexus City, Merchant Stall
Tag: Aito, Tymair Amnen, Romulus Vel

Her heart sank when she caught sight of Aito, all hope of slipping her guard and exploring the city vanishing now that he was there.

Even in this bustling city, I am a prisoner.

Lowering her lashes in feigned contrition, she gave a solemn nod. “Forgive me, I was simply looking for a gift that might be suitable for Lord Romin and wandered further than intended.” her lips pulled into a demure smile that hid her disappointment in being caught, longing to explore this world on her own terms. “But you are right,” she continued, her head tilted in deference to his authority as she replaced the jeweled blade back to the merchants table. After all, obedience was the key to maintaining her survival. “we should head back.”

But before they could embark on what was sure to be a tedious and silent trek back, fate intercepted in the form of a swarthy man and his entourage. Sharp eyes immediately noted two guards flanking him, both wide of shoulder and garbed in yellow cloaks, edged in black satin. The colors of House Amnen were unmistakable and the small group paused just a short distance from them.

Her brows furrowed slightly, struggling to put a name to a face, though she knew it was safe to surmise that the man with his too-charming smile could not have been the young Lord Ty’darius. If the meetings for peace had concluded this early, then either the negotiations had failed and the Houses would soon be at war again, or they had come to a hasty and fragile agreement that was unlikely to hold for more than a fortnight.

“The streets this far out are not safe, m’lady. One never knows who could be lurking about.”

Slowly, her gaze drifted to meet him, sizing up the nobleman with a quick and calculating glance. He was older than her, and taller, too - though that was no great feat of accomplishment at her measly stature, as that was true of most she came into contact with. But, there was more to him than just his height. His features were strikingly alluring, chiseled with what almost seemed like razor-sharp precision that could only come from the hands of a great artist. When he spoke, it was like honey poured over warm bread. Smooth and rich.

“Your concern is duly noted, my Lord.” she said after he'd introduced himself, her tone placid and agreeable as she dutifully took his hand, keeping her grip soft and controlled. A subtle indication that she was playing along with the game afoot before releasing. “I am Cyressa Tiberos, ward of House Renoux.” Arctic eyes flickered back to the guards flanking Tymair, then settled on him again. “But I assure you, I am safe in the company of my guard and the ever-vigilant Justicar, Aito... Nevertheless, your presence and protection would be a welcome addition if you care to join us on our trek back."

Before Tymair could respond, the conversation took yet another unexpected turn.

An entirely new face arrived with all the energy of three Nelvaan bat-squirrels and a boisterous personality to match, throwing her slightly off balance while introducing himself as Romulus Vel, greeting Tymair with a hint of smugness before turning his attention to her. “Good day Ser Romulus,” she said politely, obliging his handshake as he turned his attention to Aito, explaining to the group the situation of a wayward child. “I can’t say that I’ve seen him, but I hope that you find him soon.” her mind whirred with possibilities, seeing the chance to gain some control over her own situation and free herself from the Justicar breathing down her neck. “Perhaps, Aito, you could help track him down? An act of good faith from House Renoux.”

 

[Tycho Amnen]

Clever girl. He thought as she deftly plucked her falling blade from the air with her free hand and continued her attack.

Silver flashed, the end of the blade tearing a hole in Tycho's tunic. If she'd been any quicker or he had been any slower she would have drawn blood.

He found himself both impressed and intrigued with her ingenuity and determination.

He was otherwise free of duty and growing more curious of the girl by the moment.

Let us see how good you truly are

Tycho Amnen was trained in the ways of The Force and had years of experience as the Prime Justiciar for his house. His martial skill went unrivaled throughout the Braxtant Run. He had little to fear from this girl but there was a spark in her and he intended to find out how hot it burned.

"Just hand it- Kark! That hurt!" She swore.

"You're slow," He told her. "And clumsy. If you want what I have come and take it from me."

Aliris Tremiru

 

[Aliris Tremiru]

"Clums- What? Just- Ow damnit!"

She growled under her breath as her wrist continued to throb in pain. And he was just dodging away from her strike so easily? Of course he had an artifact then. He was someone who knew what it was. Damnit. Aliris gritted her teeth as she slipped back, brought her dagger up. Watched. If he was skilled, then she just needed to surprise him better. He sensed her coming, sensed her strike. She wasn't trained to be one of those damn shadows.

All she had was what training she did get.

And a broken wrist.

"Fine. Fine. I will! Where is it then?" Stall. Stall and feel it out. Maybe get him talking while she did. He was fast, but maybe she could just slip one under him.

Tycho Amnen

 

[Tycho Amnen]

"Fine. Fine. I will! Where is it then?"

Tycho shrugged back his sleeves and held his right hand for her to see.

"Here."

There were many rings in his hand but for her there should be no mistake to which he referred. It was a simple thing but far from ordinary. An untarnished silver band fitted with a cracked red stone.

A bauble

That was what his master had called it.

Insignificant and damaged.

His master knew of such things. A collector of Force artifacts to the point of being obsessed. He had allowed Tycho to keep the ring and so he had.

"Come and claim your prize, child."

Aliris Tremiru

 

[Aliris Tremiru]

A ring?

She groaned in annoyance at that. There was little chance she could slip that free of his hand without him noticing. Already the gears in her head were trying to work it through. What could she do? Take his hand? The finger? She wasn't planning on killing someone, but maybe she should. Aliris's eyes narrowed as she readied herself.

"Fine."

Then she sprang forward. Broken wrist or not, she wasn't going to let it hold her back. She brought the dagger around, but given that was the obvious choice she used it as a feint. Dropped low, swung her leg to try and trip him to the ground. Use his own size and weight against him, like she was trained to do.

Tycho Amnen

 

[Deyanira Draco]

H O U S E • D R A C O​

Ulysses Renoux | Darius Amnen | Leon Draco | Roxy Renoux | Asaaj En Kelsani | Tyonna Amnen
​

Deyanira spared Duke Renoux an exasperated glance. The nerve of the man, suggesting that they marry now that she’d been widowed. And of course, she hadn’t missed the mention of matching her youngest daughter to young Lord Amnen. It was an option, yes, but one she was not ready to consider just yet.

At least, her stomach wasn’t the only one churning at these possibilities— the Duke’s daughter was quick to voice her many opinions. The young woman seemed to be struggling to maintain a polite composure.

These children, stuck on the notion they should marry for love.

Love counted for very little in their sphere of influence. More than that, it could lead a house to complete ruin. The next generation of leaders would have to come to term with these things. Still, the protest against marriage would work to her advantage for the time.

“House Draco will join the triumvirate, provided it is situated somewhere… neutral.” She certainly wasn’t about to see this happening on Jaemus or Muunilinst. “And I am sure that we can each offer something to demonstrate our commitment without marriage.”

Deyanira then arched a brow at Leon.

“We could open our routes for trade, perhaps?” The Entralla Route did come to mind – House Draco had been controlling the route for some time now. She’d continue to look to Leon; he ought to know more about that than she did.

​

 

[Leon Draco]

“We could open our routes for trade, perhaps?”

Leon had drained his second (or was it his third?) glass of wine and was struggling to pour another when he suddenly became aware of his mother's eyes upon him. Slowly his gaze crept toward her, her words finally beginning to register.

"Oh! Yes. The, uh, Entralla Route was cut off by the late Lord Draco." It was a good idea; he wished he had come up with it himself. Certainly it was the best suggestion anyone had made thus far. "Opening up all previously closed lanes and allowing goods to flow freely would make for good collateral. No one has to marry anyone, no hostages need to be taken, and we all enjoy the many, many fruits of free trade."

Deyanira Draco Ulysses Renoux Roxy Renoux Amarantos Draco Darius Amnen Tyonna Amnen Asaaj En Kelsani

 

[Amelia von Sorenn]

Attire: [X]
Location: Government Building
Objective: Diplomacy

"And I looked, and beheld a Pale Horse: and his name that sat on him was Death, and Hell followed with him."
​

She did not consider herself a harbinger or herald of either natural or unnatural passing, and yet, it seemed that wherever she traveled to or from, death came in her wake or otherwise announced her arrival in some manner. The woman had been missing from the Galaxy for the last quarter-century in some unknown region of Wild Space; quietly returning via a funeral was a rather macabre way of going about such means. A faint, soft smirk slipped across her lips, tugging at the edges of her mouth as a hint of a fang was revealed if only momentarily as she carefully ascended the steps leading up to the Courtyard. The heels of her boots clicked with a harsh ring upon the stones as each step was careful and measured to ensure grace and poise; also preventing the woman from falling ass over teakettle as she walked.

Much of her figure was covered in some manner save for her head, and even that was protected by the wide-brimmed hat that sat upon her crown. The rigidity of the outfit could easily excuse one thinking that it was armor, or perhaps that was the purpose of its appearance, to provide that secondary momentary thought that would throw an individual off of the process. With each step the metal flashed, the billowing overcoat permitting the odd look at the cylindrical object before it bounced away back beneath the shadows of her figure, only to be revealed against with the next step. Even if she were disarmed, she was still more than capable of defending herself, and what's more, it was better to have the weapon and not need it, than need it and not have it. Funerals, especially those for Nobility, were always a dangerous place to permit one's guard to be lowered.

Each step was measured as it was made, the woman moving gracefully as she seemed to stride across the ground as though she were floating more so than walking. Her head remained bowed, the hat keeping her face obscured even as she carefully passed by others. Silver-white trusses slipped down over her shoulders and cascaded down her back as though a waterfall emerged from her scalp, a beauty in her own right though she never paid much attention to others, not since another had been long gone from her life. Already late as it was, she finally managed to find her way toward the building and room in which the talks were taking place.

Stopping, she took stock of herself as she stood before the closed doors, bringing her hands forward and resting them against her stomach as she took in a deep breath before releasing it once more. Once she was ready, she stepped forward and made her entrance, though she did so with quiet dignity and not a flashy show. The attire she wore was not common for funerals, though it was what she was comfortable in at that moment. The red seemed to contrast and clash starkly with the House Colors of those that she had chosen to serve upon her return to the Galaxy, not the white and greys; easily mistaken for being a member of House Draco, it would likely cause a slight shock and confusion among others as she slowly made her way towards Duke Renoux before stopping and offering a slight bow her head.

"My apologies for the late arrival Duke Renoux, I thought it prudent to take the time to admire the Lady's city prior."

The woman slowly rose back to her full posture, raising her head and revealing her face as golden-yellow hues fell upon the older face of the Duke. Her soft smile once more flashed the hint of her fangs before she carefully composed herself and turned in kind towards the others present and offered a similar apology for her tardiness. As her attention fell upon the Lady, she offered a slight bow of her head, hands still resting against her stomach.

"My Condolences."

She spoke with a soft tone, showing a flash of compassion before she carefully brought her attention back towards the meeting at hand, carefully making her way behind the Duke and taking a position behind his right shoulder. Golden-yellow hues carefully surveyed the others in the room as she stood and listened.

Ulysses Renoux | Darius Amnen | Leon Draco | Roxy Renoux | Asaaj En Kelsani | Tyonna Amnen

 

[Ulysses Renoux]

H O U S E • R E N O U X​

Wearing: xxx
Tag: Roxy Renoux | Deyanira Draco | Leon Draco | @Ddarius Amnen | Asaaj En Kelsani | Amarantos Draco | Amelia von Sorenn

They were getting to the heart of it all. What were they actually willing to do in order to ensure peace and cooperation? Ulysses knew his idea would only work if they made it happen. While he feared each of them would still try to put their house first, and secure a better position within the details of every agreement, this was still progress.

He nodded when the suggestion put forward by Deyania Draco was voiced. Free and open trade was something Ulysses had never known in his life between their worlds. Each enjoyed some measure of economic support from the tariffs which were levied on the imports, but often suffered the loss of income on what they exported. The Duke smiled. It would be Lady Draco which would suggest something that would have the potential to allow her to amass more wealth, but her offer benefited all.

Ulysses was ready to accept without any conditions. Any vocalization of that was preempted by the entrance of Amelia von Sorenn . Just the thought of the woman caused a shudder to run down Ulysses spine. While she had proven her worth as a recent advisor in his halls, the aura of something mysterious and chilling was always about her. There was no doubt in his mind she had certain interests she was looking out for, but for the moment his house was better because of the woman’s presence.

He canted his head as he replied for ears only.

“It seems my son had the same idea,” he replied, still upset that Romin had decided to pass on the peace talks.

Perhaps his son had made the right decision, but only time would tell. It was not encouraging he had decided to skip them because he was trapped in the alluring clutches of Adelina Draco . They would certainly be a formidable pair should they ever be matched, and Ulysses was aware it was one of several possible maneuvers or concessions he would have to make before peace was truly the way of life among the houses.

His eyes finally turned to Lady Draco, forcing himself to stomach what he was about to say.

“I cannot think of a better suggestion on this regard. We have never enjoyed the prosperity of free trade among our worlds. This had not only been a bloody war for us all, but we have all attempted to bleed each other dry of whatever credits we could earn on the export of our goods. House Renoux is willing to agree to doing the same, provided House Amnen is as well, and that any and all trade agreements are monitored by a neutral party.”

His eyes fell to Lady von Sorenn.

“For example, Lady von Sorenn here has members of her guild spread among our three great planets. Many of us use them to advise on matters of culture and economics. Their services in this matter could ensure we abide by the agreements established today.”

Ulysses finally regarded his daughter, and whispered to her an aside.

“You have done more to move this along in a beneficial direction than you may realize just yet. Well done.”

Compliments, genuine ones, were hard to come by where Ulysses was concerned. Rexanne would undoubtedly find the praise from her father to be unexpected, but she would at least know it was well deserved.

 

[Adelina Draco]

Tag: Tolmeh Thorn | Romin Renoux / Raze | Isadora Draco / Ilia |
​

Adelina arched a brow at Romin when he began negotiating with the Justicars. Normally, when things did not go her way, she raised a fuss until someone gave in or stomped off back to her room. It looked like she wouldn't need to go that far today. Pity.

In this case, it seemed that Young Lord Renoux had been able to appeal to Tolmeh. Even though, her house Justicar had already informed her mother, no doubt. Ugh. Oh well, it's not like mommy kept her locked away in a high tower or anything. Really, sometimes she wondered what would happen if she went missing. Her mother probably wouldn't even bat an eye.

Adelina brightened when Isadora and her friend declined.

That would have been a drag, having the two of them tagging along. Her younger sister was so prim and proper, sometimes it made Adelina's stomach turn.

"Don't worry so much, Tolmeh," she said, rolling her eyes. "We're going to be fine."

Adelina aimed a glance to the Renoux Justicar as well, as if daring him to say anything different.

"We'll be going, then," she said, pleasantly – far more pleasantly than usual. "Come," Adelina said to Romin, as if speaking to a puppy. "There's a wine bar just down that way." She gestured.

She didn't offer any farewells to Issy, that blonde girl, or the Justicars.

 

[Tycho Amnen]

Then she sprang forward. Broken wrist or not, she wasn't going to let it hold her back. She brought the dagger around, but given that was the obvious choice she used it as a feint. Dropped low, swung her leg to try and trip him to the ground. Use his own size and weight against him, like she was trained to do.

"Clumsy." The old man repeated as the girl lunged for him.

The dagger had no chance to touch him. He knew it and he'd thought she would as well. Perhaps his curiosity with her was misplaced. Perhaps she was nothing more than some desperate fool.

Disappointing.

Tycho hardened his stance and made a movement to deflect the incoming dagger attack and then a warning chill ran down his spine. A feeling through The Force of an incoming attack.

If Tycho Amnen were a normal man born of average stock there is no doubt that he would be on his back staring skyward but he was not. His blood was that of the most noble and the power of The Force flowed through it.

He reached out with The Force to not only block her attack but pluck her by the foot and lift her upside down in the air.

His skill was good but he could sense the Force in her as well and that left doubt on whether he would succeed.

Aliris Tremiru

 

[Aliris Tremiru]

All at once she was upside down.

Aliris blinked slowly as she stared at the ground below her, then up towards the man who had her in a grip. Her eyes narrowed for a moment before she just threw the dagger she had towards him.

"Just give me the ring, damnit!"

Tycho Amnen

 

[Romin Renoux]

H O U S E • R E N O U X​

Wearing: xxx
Tag: Adelina Draco | Tolmeh Thorn | Isadora Draco | Raze

Raze simply nodded. He was not going to argue with Romin, and the young heir knew it. Duke Renoux would handle Romin however he saw fit later, but the young man had learned to navigate his father's temper. The appeal was to Ulysses sense of what was in the best interest of diplomacy between their houses. He was banking on the fact he could bridge the gap with House Draco that his father could not.

Romin would have a better chance of doing so at the very least.

Without a word, Raze turned and left. Passing by Tolmeh once more. A nod was offered. It was an odd feeling that blood had not been shed, but Raze knew his duty was to ensure Duke Renoux's safety during the peace talks.

Romin smiled as Raze left without argument. He knew that Roxy would complain heavily about the stunt Romin was pulling, and it made him happy. If he could not bring a measure of irritation to his sisters then what was the point of having them?

There was not much else to say until Lady Adelina told him where they were going and commanded he follow her. Normally Romin would remind the dark haired woman that he was not a common pet, but this time he would let it slide. He was curious about everything the city had to offer, and she was his guide. Romin also held a certain curiosity for the girl herself. Of all the children he observed at the funeral, Adelina seemed the most like her mother. They looked the same and held similar mannerisms. Perhaps it would be a way to get to know something about the woman his father was obsessed with.

"The wine bar it is," he answered as he moved to keep up with the woman.

They had not said any goodbyes which seemed rude. There were other ladies present, another of House Draco and her friend. He looked back and shrugged as if to acknowledge the behavior, but he had the feeling they were used to her.

"So… I guess when everyone leaves we won't be at war anymore…"

It was a horrible ice breaker, but Romin did not really know where to begin. A formal introduction seemed redundant as they all knew who each other were. So, he was at a loss. What was he supposed to lead with, that she was prettier of the two sisters?

 

[Tymair Amnen]

H O U S E • A M N E N​

Midst a soft kiss of greeting upon the ladies hand, Tymair felt his mood immediately sour. The voice of Romulus the Halfwit ricocheted off the moment like a rat in a metal trash pale. Releasing Cyressa's hand, Tymair mouthed the words I am so sorry, while adding the effect of rolled eyes.

His next lines of engagement had already been drawn up, and now Romulus had to go and throw a wet blanket across it all.

Unacceptable.

"Justicar. Do you have any experience in pest control?" Tymair said, directing his words at Aito, and trying his best to avoid eye contact with Romulus. His attempts were unsuccessful.

"Even an honorary guest can outstay its welcome," he said, more for Cyressa to hear than anyone else.

"No. No, I have not seen Arlo," Tymair said, smile as false as could, "and as he is not here...I do suggest you look elsewhere...lest you miss him of course. How we shall miss your company. But I shall instead have to brave these streets with the Lady Tiberos alone." Mostly. The Justicar wasn't going anywhere, neither were his own guards.

| Aito | Cyressa Tiberos | Romulus Vel | Arlo Amnen |​

 

[Tycho Amnen]

"Just give me the ring, damnit!"

Tycho watched the dagger sail harmlessly past him.

"And if I offered you more?" He asked, releasing his telekinetic hold of her plunging her uncaringly, face first toward the hard stone of the alleyway.

"More than this," He said, slipping the ring from his finger and throwing it on the ground near her.

"What if I were to offer you safety, food…a shower ." He asked the girl.

"What if I offered you a place to learn, to train, to realize the potential of the power that withers inside of you?”

He knelt down to look her in the eye.

"What if I were to offer you a home?"

Aliris Tremiru

 

[Aliris Tremiru]

Lightning danced between her fingertips as she readied herself to let that fly. The dagger would act like the lightning rod she needed to aim it, ready herself to defend more, fight more. But instead he spoke. Aliris just blinked, letting the blue around her now slightly burnt fingers die out. She listened, in silence, as she continued to hang upside down. Frowned in thought. It was a tempting offer.

It always would be.

"What do you want in exchange?"

Tycho Amnen