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| The Weaving of Webs; For Namir | |
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| Topic Started: Feb 11 2015, 12:28 PM (225 Views) | |
| Neriasis | Feb 11 2015, 12:28 PM Post #1 |
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Ex-God of Order
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The note was written and sent a week ago and still he felt things weren’t right. Stress fueled his pacing as he absently chewed on a fingernail. There was no helping it, he’d allowed for Namir to think him dead for these past few months leading in to winter, but now he was about to blow the whole thing open. Or not. It wasn’t decided yet, thus the pacing. On one hand it was probably the right thing to do, letting his lover know he was still alive. Still interested. Was he? It was hard to tell, they barely got any time together before now. But that could change, with a new image and new reputation Neriasis wouldn’t have to hide. However, he was still seen as the guild leader of Argos, which while gaining good repute still wasn’t a shining beacon of trusted activities, which meant that even if he could go out in public it still might not be wise for him and Namir to be seen together publicly. Although with the magic he’d been learning since their last meeting, which had been far too long ago and not nearly personal enough, though it had been close; slipping over to secretly visit the councilor would be easier. Now on the other side of things was the possibility that Namir might out him, but that would only occur if things went south between them. That would more or less be something from Neriasis’s side of the matter. The drow was a rather rotten character after all, even if on occasion he had a soft side. “Artanis, what do I do?” he asked turning in his pacing to look at the ghostly elf who had perched herself upon his bed between two of the smaller shadows. They seemed to like her, and she did not mind them, at least it gave her someone other than Neriasis to interact with, even if very few of the shadows actually spoke. “Not what you did last time,” she commented unhelpfully, a serious frown crossing her features before she lightened up a little, “You could try actually believing in these things you do to put up a front. Stop being such a sour puss, people aren’t all bad, maybe and I know this is a stretch for you: you could be honest and friendly. Go ahead and tell him, if you really care about him. If things don’t work out just don’t go murdering people like last time. You might end up with two people haunting you instead of one.” “Bad is such a relative term, more like they are selfish,” he said turning to the mirror in the room and frowning a little at the image that stared back at him, “But I am so good at being the bad guy.” * * * Namir would have received the invitation from Ni’ab much like the other councilors had, a simple letter written by hand and stamped with the Argos spider. The letter mentioned a meeting time and place; the place being the tavern they had first met at and subsequently the one Neriasis had expressed his interest in Namir at. It was perhaps a bit of a cliché choice but it felt comfortable. As for the time well that was a bit peculiar for him, as normally he would have chosen a later time to accommodate his aversion with the sun, but the illusion protected his skin well enough. Thus he had chosen a time more towards the afternoon while the sun was still up, but not too late as to be troubled by a heavy traffic flow from shops closing for the night. Neriasis as Na’ib settled at the same table as the first day. Wings rustled a bit as he tried to keep still as he waited for Namir to show, hoped Namir showed. How terrible a thing it would have been if after all this he did not even get a chance to meet with the Kitsune again. |
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| Namir Govannan | Mar 30 2015, 09:09 AM Post #2 |
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Sotoan Councillor
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Namir had received a letter earlier in the day. That wasn't inherently strange, he received letters all the time. What was strange about it was that the letter was from a dead man. Namir hadn't heard from Neriasis in months, and had had to assume that he was dead. Namir nodded curtly to the deliverer and opened the letter as soon as he was gone. He'd looked at the familiar seal and the unfamiliar writing with great intent, and then, once finished with the letter, he'd burned it. Neriasis was alive, and he wanted to meet. At first Namir wasn't sure how to feel about that. It was a good thing that Neriasis was alive, Namir hated useless death. However he wasn't sure what to do. He'd been mulling over the ideas all day while doing his paperwork and his other tasks in the background. Most of the time Namir would have put more thought into what he was doing, but he was reasonably distracted by the news. He'd finally decided to meet with the Drow, but the work was piling up around him even as he realized that there was no way he'd be able to meet with him on time. It was early evening, only about an hour before most would be having dinner when Namir finally arrived at the appointed meeting place. He looked around the tavern, and finally spotted who he was looking for at the table where they had met here the first time. Namir's cloak moved, having been agitated by a flick of his tail that he'd been unable to control. He walked forward and sat down opposite Neriasis, looking at the wings that seemed quite new to him. Namir trusted his hood to hide his features from prying eyes. Several weapons were strewn about his body, though he didn't expect to have to use any of them. Namir wasn't sure how to feel at this moment. He felt anger at being lied to, through omission, but still lied to. He felt happiness that Neriasis was still alive. He felt the well of emotions that he'd had over the past months flood up. Worrying about the other man, wondering what was going on, and then, when no news came, the soul crushing agony of accepting that he was dead. Namir wasn't sure if he wanted to hold Neriasis forever or berate him for making Namir worry. So much had happened, there was so much to say. Namir didn't know where to begin. "I think it would probably be best if we could go somewhere a little more private," Namir said, "Whatever this meeting becomes it's unlikely that we want the whole tavern to see it." Namir kept getting struck with the strong emotions that came with not seeing someone important to you in such a long time. He was surprised by the little details he'd forgotten, and all the things that had changed. "So shall we find a nice quiet room somewhere?" |
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| Neriasis | Apr 13 2015, 12:02 PM Post #3 |
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Ex-God of Order
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“I was hoping you might suggest that,” said Neriasis who was more than happy to take to a more private local where he could shed the disguise of an angelic being for the dark skinned elven body he’d grown comfortable with. Standing with a graceful fluid movement the guild leader offered Namir a pale hand, holding in place a disguised smile. Appearances meant a lot while he was wearing the skin of Ni’ab, so the twitch of a frown at how their skin was currently not starkly contrasted would simply have to wait. “I already had a room waiting for such a request.” It was a lie. The reasoning for the room had not been to wait for a request for a more private venue; it had been acquired for the drow’s own desire to have the kitsune to himself. Neriasis could do without the talk of business, or the tongue lashing of his faked death, all he wanted was time alone with Namir. Time alone to engage in acts that were better left out of the public eye. Not that he assumed things would fall together so easily, there was still that pesky business of not knowing just how mad Namir was with him. If he focused more on pleasing the people he cared for most and less time trying to acquire power Neriasis might find his life far simpler and more rewarding. Leading Namir out of the dining area and towards the room was an exercise in patience and social grace. Even though Namir might be hooded, there was bound to be an individual or two who might recognize him. Thus it was in Neriasis’s best interest to make their departure to a more private location appear as innocent and business like as possible. Still if they did talk it was better they talk about an angel than a drow when it came to political scandal. Opening the door to the room he stepped aside to allow Namir to enter first. Inside the room was just as you would expect of any inn’s common bedrooms. A bed, a dresser, and a small table with two chairs; it was not much but it did not need to be. “Make yourself comfortable,” he said as he closed the door behind them, locking it so that they would not be disturbed. The curtains were already drawn across the window so as soon as the door was shut the shadows that concealed Neriasis’s true form started to peel away. White skin retreating from darkness, blue eyes giving way to hardened red, golden hair bleaching to the white of moonlight, and white feathers revealed to be black as a raven’s. “I apologize for my need to hide,” said the drow stepping further into the room and towards Namir who he longed to be in physical contact with but refrained from such an action until he had had a moment to gauge how the other felt about these turns of events. For all Neriasis knew Namir had gotten over his death and moved on. |
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