Marn Restoration Gala - Ascension

[Vicentius]

"The pleasure was mine, dear lady."

He returned the curtsey with a bow of his own and straightened with a smile. Around them the other dancers were filing away for the time being. At the head table, he noticed that dear Luca was doing his best to upset Isyrion and her guests. Lady Sekharra and Captain Smithson were an odd pairing, but it was an odd evening. Given Sekhara's generally liberal leanings he was surprised she would associate with the Guard at all, but the times often called for strange bed-fellows. Smithson was a powerful bed-fellow indeed. It was unfortunate that he allied himself with Oslun, but that could be changed in time. For Tius' purposes the man was a force of nature; not to be trifled with, but useful if you knew the rules of the game. He put him from his mind as he followed Miss Idris off the dance floor.

"I can understand that," he said, glancing at his own hands, "but these people do not think like that. They are pack hunters and won't move unless the big dogs start to move. That's the scary part. There is an old trick I learned to help settle the nerves though, if you're interested."

She did seem tense, though whether it was the wine, the crowd or him being charming was anyone's guess. Picking up two glasses of punch from a passing servant, he handed one to her and sipped from his own. Casual or concerned? He was uncertain which to be. He opted for the latter.

"If you're warm, press the glass to your brow, it might help a little," he said, smiling.

[Metarie]

"Master Abernathy," Ree inclined her head in Luca's direction, acknowledging his greeting. Ree gave Alexander a look - a tilt of her head, a slow blink of her eyes, a slight curve of her mouth. It was up to him to decide what it meant, but the words the followed left no doubt: It was disappointment. Ree caught Ashleigh's joke, but did not acknowledge it. She had come for a purpose.

At Navarre's invitation to take a seat and dine with her, Ree shook her head.

"I helped your mother bring you into this world. I attended your birthdays, yet a few days ago you acted as if you had never met me. I found that surprising, almost as surprising as I found the message of your campaign to be. It's as if the beautiful young woman I knew is gone."

Ree inhaled a breath and continued, "I came tonight for the express purpose of stating my complete disappointment in you and this pogrom you have begun. Let me state unequivocally and without doubt, that I do not support it or you. And, I can say with all honesty and earnestness, I am disappointed in anyone who buys into the hate you encourage."

Ree's word caused the people around her to stop speaking and listen. Her voice carried easily. She looked around at those seated at the table, before returning her gaze to Isyrion. Nearby, the reporters scribbled furiously.

"Not more than 20 years ago, a riot consumed our City. Many lives were lost, and, of the faces I see in this room, many were alive to experience it. Do you really think your apologies will quell the distrust you have fostered? Those words are too late considering the pamplets and posters you have plastered around the city. Too late on the heels of announcing the death of a friend and using it to foster sympathy for your cause." Ree's voice strengthened as she continued to speak. Ree looked hard at Alexander, at Jevan, and even at Guile, knowing they at least were old enough to remember.

"Have you forgotten the aftermath? Riots in streets? Neighbors killing neighbors? This doesn't frighten you? It frightens me! I see the words spoken today as fuel for a fire none of you are prepared to control." Ree shook her head. She was passionate about her feelings. It showed in her eyes.

"A wise man reminded me recently that the Tomes say Marn is a haven for all well-meaning people, even if they are afflicted with magic like me, or even like Isyrion. Likewise gnomes and dwarves are useful to the economy. It was through working together that our city was built." With this, Ree looked around the entire room and her voice was strong.

"As the last living first generation Descendant, I call on all well-meaning Marnians to disassociate themselves from this disgusting cause and unite together as Marnians, and not allow a child's pain and anger to turn us against one another. I call on you to allow our guards to do their jobs, despite the disparaging words said about them tonight. I, for one, will be offering my services to conduct in-depth autopsies to find those responsible and see that they are brought to justice."

Returnng her gaze to Navarre, Ree resumed in elvish.

/"Until you recant everything and work to repair the damage you have done, you are a stranger to me. I know you no longer."/ With a gesture of her hand, Ree socially and effectively stated Isyrion was no longer considered an elf in her eyes. Any elves nearby would know what it meant. As far as Ree was concenred, Isyrion was no longer an elf of Marn, or a member of that community. She had been disowned.

"Captain, I am ready to leave. Would you please escort me to my carriage?"

[Guile]

The beauty of Metarie's made-up face became distorted with her tone of voice. Guile made the realization that she was not here to enjoy the company or discuss plans, but to ruin everyone else's time. Her presence here was the equivalent of his at the hospital. Now, she was in his domain, and she'd do everything in her power to displease him. Obviously her world also revolved around him.

"I just love gardeners, you know," he heard a familiar, pomp voice say. Luca was making annoying conversation, as was his expertise at events like this. He was a fair-looking man, well groomed if nothing else. Guile pursed his lips and raised his brow, eyeing the youthful figure with interest. Luca was much more fun and intriguing at real parties. The minister didn't care for his show of prestige in such company.

The Captain, beside Metarie like a trophy, made a statement simply by being there. Guile had never understood how the two could have formed a couple. The relationship was a popular target for conspiracy and rumor by both the upper and lower classes. In Guile's own opinion, no good man would ever consort so readily and indecently with one of a different species. There were of course good elves and bad elves, just like humans, but the very idea that Metarie might one day produce a half-breed by the Captain was nauseating.
"Meh-ta-ree! Lovely as ever this evening!" The intentional mispronunciation of her name was an old standby in his book of hate. It was how he almost always greeted her. His smile was toxic.

Hermipises put her head upon her palm, gazing at the elf as if lost in luxury. Almost as quickly, her expression transformed into a taut and hag-like viciousness that had jealousy written all over it. She looked down at her goblet and began rolling the nonexistent liquid in it. If only envy was a sport, she would have been a world famous champion.

Remaining quiet, as if waiting for something, Guile listened to the babbling until Metarie at last spoke her words. They were cutting, like a knife, meant to drive right into the pyramid that Navarre had helped to build.
"It's as if the beautiful young woman I knew is gone."
"Well that's awfully--" Guile started, but Ree was not about to let anyone have the floor. After she voiced her disappointment, Guile finished his sentence with, "--melodramatic."

Then, she spoke of the riots, the nerve. Guile of course remembered the riots, but everybody in Marn seemed to have differing opinions as to how the riots had started and ended. The only thing people agreed on was that prevention of more was a necessity for the city.

"Oh honestly Doctor--" but he was interrupted again, which angered him. He made a sort of chuffing noise, sitting up in his seat as if ready to grab her throat just to shut her up. What Ree spoke as passion came to Guile as childish. She spoke of the Tomes saying that other species were a good thing, and then spoke yet more rhetoric about children and pain and justice.

Guile opened his mouth just in time for Metarie to say some frilly shit in elvish. She then wanted to leave.

"Really? You're willing to spout all that to the amazement of others and yet you won't even stay for any form of discussion on the matter? You want to throw your stones and run off? What cowardice!"
Being unable to say to her what he wanted to say earlier in rebuttal, he had grown quite angry and his tone was demeaning. He made the mistake of not keeping an even voice, and was visibly upset. He didn't care if she stayed to listen or not, he said it all anyway.

"Can't you see that Lady Navarre wishes to prevent such riots? Maybe you have forgotten that it was magic-users who started such violence, and magic-users who are starting it again now! Action must be done if we are to prevent more death and suffering of the Marnian people!"
This was itself all rhetoric that had been passed back and forth for many, many years between those on the other side of the fence. "Whether or not magic-users are good or bad, the fact remains that it is they who commit the vast majority of crimes in this city. It is they we must be wary of. Not everyone is a Descendant and not everyone studies the Tomes so devotedly as you do, Metarie, you must understand."

Hermipises watched in disbelief. She rarely saw her husband break from his mask of smiles and jolly feelings. In reality, Guile was quite ready for Metarie to spout her bullshit. Having forged an opinion, he was not the type to rework it, especially not based on anything she said.

[Navarre]

Navarre folded her hands on her lap and watched Metarie intently, a mildly concerned expression on her face. Instead of attempting to interrupt her like Guile, she remained silent and let Metarie give her speech. At one point Alexander started to stand up, no doubt to usher Metarie away, but she gently raised her hand to stop him. Once Metarie finished she sipped her wine and allowed Guile to lash out at her, noting his fervent defense of her campaign.

"Doctor, have you ever heard of the Lorsynthe Revolt?"

Several of her nearby supporters had been about to assist Guile with their own condemnations, but her question stopped them and drew their attention. Alexander suppressed his anger and focused on Navarre, trusting that she had the situation under control. Metarie had her say, and now the floor was hers.

"I expect not - it is a rather obscure event, and due to its abrupt failure most historians gloss over it. Two centuries ago a group of amateur sorcerers attempted to seize power by casting themselves as victims of an oppressive society. Sound familiar? But fortunately they were not nearly as competent as our insurrectionists, so the city of Lorsynthe paid them little attention. They manipulated innocent men and women into aiding their cause, but in the end Lorsynthe's army defeated them with minimal effort.

"You can see why most would dismiss it as a footnote of history. But only a select few like myself truly understand what transpired. Many of those sorcerers possessed what they thought were simple spellbooks, but little did they know they owned grimoires detailing some of the most dangerous magic in Pal Tahrenor." Her tone became intense, almost adoring. "Those fools were too blind to realize the immense power they had at their disposal. One spell could turn thousands of people into unspeakable horrors with a single cast, and another could conjure diseases capable of annihilating entire peoples. Most remarkably, one could even grant eternal life."

Navarre chuckled, pausing to sip her wine. "Thankfully these tomes were destroyed, but imagine what would have happened if they fell into the wrong hands. Allow me to paraphrase a tome: Cities filled with people coughing up their organs, their skin covered with boils and sores. Infants choking on their own bile. Mothers smothering their babies to end their misery. Possessed fathers tearing their wives and children to pieces without a shred of remorse. Our world would begin a long, agonizing spiral into complete destruction.

"You may dismiss this as a myth, but rest assured this magic was once very real - and can easily return. Magic has power far beyond what we can comprehend, and left unchecked it will destroy us." Navarre sighed and shook her head. "I am sorry to hear you will not help us ensure Marn's salvation, but I still respect your decision. I only hope that you can understand I act out of love, not malice. Farewell, Doctor Sehkhara."

[Metarie]

Metarie's turn to leave was cut off by the familiar drawl of her name by Guile Marcus. Metarie paused and turned back. A smile graced her face.

"Minister Marcus!" Ree gave a blithe laugh, "Yes, I am a Descendant and while your lack of formalities in the Hospital are to be expected, at events like these do recall you should address me, as a Descendant, as Lady Sehkhara." Her voice was as sweet as candy, but the look in her eye was not. She knew he resented her. Ree kept her gaze on Guile since he had bothered to throw the first volley.

"Magic users is it? And what facts have you to back up that overused bit of rhetoric? Guard reports? Records from the Hospital? As you are well-aware, mandates state any medical services rendered as a result of crime must be transferred to the Guards and Judges as well as made public record. Of the 100 cases that occurred over the last month, two were the result of magic-users and only one of them was related to magic use."

Ree lifted a gloved hand, holding up a single finger to indicate the number. "That is 1 out of every 100 crimes. What are those odds? And, if memory serves me correctly, blotter reports of the recent warehouse raid in the Historic District found that Copiax was being made through mundane means."

"But, then perhaps you are correct. Perhaps it is magic users who are starting it again now. Did I not say as much when I called Isyrion's inflammatory speech a ploy to prey on the emotions of others? After all, the young lady you are so keen to defend, is a registered magic user. In fact, I'm quite surprised, given your anti-magic stance, that you are so openly following a magic-user."

Navarre's voice followed Ree's rebuttal.

"Doctor, have you ever heard of the Lorsynthe Revolt?" Navarre did not wait for Ree to respond. It had been a rhetorical question. As for Ree, the more Navarre spoke, the more horrified Ree became and the more horrifying Navarre became in Ree's eyes. Something was truly, truly wrong with the child. The look on her face said as much.

"How is it, you who have never left Marn, never studied further than the University, would come to have such a profound knowledge of such horrific magic use? And, why do you speak of it with such respect?" For the first time in her life, Ree felt like a true Puradyne. She was revolted by the possibility that magic would be used to do such harm to others.

"I am sorry to hear you will not help us ensure Marn's salvation, but I still respect your decision. I only hope that you can understand I act out of love, not malice."

"Marn's salvation? Since when has genocide ever been part of our salvation? Since when has species cleansing been done out of anything other than malice?" Ree's gaze searched the faces of those at the table and she saw what she thought was a lack of comprehension on every face. That, or hatefulness aimed at her. Except, of course, for Abernathy who was staring at her as if she'd grown a pair of wings or an extra eye. Certainly, he, out of all of them, looked completely enthralled - just what that meant or in what way, one would never know.

Ree knew when she made her stand against what Isyrion was promoting, she was setting herself as a pariah. Who knew, maybe she would be divested of her medical license and forced to leave the only home she knew.

"When Lord Belatucadrus invited the Descendants to re-establish Marn, he invited members of each species. The invitation was to a social experiment, an attempt to establish a society where the species would work together and build a place where innovation and knowledge flourished without the excessive use of magic such as you describe." Ree shook her head in negation.

"What you are proposing is an overthrow of that system and a creation of imbalance. In my mind, your supposed salvation is no different than those Paragon followers since both seek to do harm to the people of Marn. I, for one, cannot stand idly by and allow that to happen."

Ree raised her brows, "Now that the hostess as so graciously granted my leave?" Ree glanced at each of the assembled crew, before moving to leave once more. This time she hoped to get away before she became more emotional than she had already become.

[Luca Abernathy]

It was utterly delicious. Tongues had turned to knives and blood was being shed right before him. Luca had always trusted his instinct for a good scandal, and by Teodinus he'd been given a month's worth of gossip in the space of a couple of minutes. Minister Markus, the Captain, Lady Sekhara, and Isyrion, all entangled in a mess of ego and ill-will. It was like a week of desserts presented to the dandy all at once. It was a shame Metarie seemed so ready to leave.

The real question was 'who was the most dangerous', and who would be the most fun to twit? A matter for some serious deliberation. It took Luca all of two seconds to make up his mind. Still wearing his inane smile, Luca blithely asserted "Oh come now, Isyrion m'dear, who cares what some pathetic city in another part of the world got up to. Spend less time in your history books, you've become incredibly dull." The dandy fiddled with the lace of his left sleeve "The fact of the matter is that we have a very fine body of guards keeping the wolves at bay, wot. Unless you are accusing our fine captain here of incompetence, of course."

Luca's smile widened slightly as he made the suggestion before smoothly sliding into his next discourse "And, of course, we have those brave and stoic souls in the battlemages who help keep such fantasies as you describe from having any chance of developing beyond the odd little bit of hedgewitchery. Really, as the delightfully blunt doctor Sekhara has stated, only the smallest percentage of difficulties in our wonderful city have been caused by that horrible magic stuff you seem so paranoid about." Luca carefully arranged his smile to hold a hint of brotherly condescension as he concluded "Quite simply put, one is more at risk of being mugged or knifed by some thug or lunatic than being magicked in any way. There's no need to go scaring poor uneducated folks with scary stories. Some of them have rather nervous constitutions. Honestly, Isyrion, it's unseemly to let paranoia overcome you in so overt a fashion."

Of course, unspoken but apparent was also the fact that much of what Luca said could apply as sly rebuttle to Minister Markus' ill-mannered retorts to the doctor a few moments earlier. Despite the subtext of his words, Luca maintained the carefree demeanour of an affable upper-class twit.

[Talia Idris]

Talia accepted the glass from Tius, eyeing it suspiciously before taking a tiny sip. This man seemed like too much of a gentleman to try and get her drunk and try anything untoward but then you never know when there was a wolf in sheep's clothing. Finding it to be punch rather then something alcoholic she smiled as she listened to him.

"Oh! That does feel good!" Talia exclaimed, her eyes brightening as the cool glass touched her red cheek. Switching to the other side she cooled the other one down before lowering the glass and taking another sip. "I shall keep this tip in mind should I ever attend another one of these functions." She said cheerily, knowing full well that it was very unlikely that she would ever be invited to something like this. And the option of paying to be included was not really an option for her. After all a baker did not make that much money. But she was happy, albeit a tad lonely, with where she was in life.

Her ears perked up at the sound of slightly raised voices starting to come from what she assumed the head table. Her head swiveled to see the owner of the voice, her eyes widening as the conversation and the topic became more clear. Standing just off the dance floor Talia was close enough that so long as the voices remained slightly raised she had a perfect view to listen to the whole production.

Talia's head bobbed slightly in agreement at occasional phrases that rung true to her own thoughts and feelings on the subject. She felt the urge to applaud as the good Doctor turned to leave. The glass in her one hand and the lack of any major reaction from those around her kept her quiet.

It wasn't over yet. Words and some not so nice ones, were tossed about. "Looks like someone let the cats out of the bag." She jokingly said to Tius trying to alleviate her feeling slightly, sliding closer so he could her her whisper. She probably didn't have to speak in such hushed tones, no one would be paying attention to what she was saying. Most every one was engrossed in the conversation in the front of the room and relaying their own thoughts an options to each other. Some people merely watched with hungry eyes and others, like her, observed with more then a little concern about what this could be leading to.

A lump got caught in her throat as the weighted words were passed around. She had never known her parents but from what she had been told her own father had been responsible for the death of two men via magical powers. His blood ran through her and as much as she hated to acknowledge it, there could be a propensity for such skills in her. Which meant that she could possibly be a future target should such a time come depending on how such a 'cleansing' would take place.

"I...I have to go." She stammered as she nodded slightly towards Tius before attempting to make a subtle dash to the women's powder room, a hand pressed against her stomach. Halfway there Talia realized that she probably could have explained that she was just going to the bathroom instead of leaving as suddenly as she did but it was too late for that her mouth tasted sour again and she did not want to try pushing it again and.

She didn't care to see how the whole ordeal played out. She just needed a moment alone. Or as alone as one could get at a party this size. Pushing the door open Talia sighed as she looked around, relieved that the room was not as bustling and busy as she had feared. The air felt cooler and fresher in here, even with a mix of various perfumes and powders that had been applied throughout the evening. Leaning over a sink she stared at her refection in the mirror. Her complexion was visibly paler then normal. Perhaps a quick splash of water, a couple pinches to her cheeks and a reapplication of her lip rouge would bring some colour back to her face. And then if she sat for a few more minutes she could go back out and perhaps all the drama would be over with and she could enjoy the rest of the night, if it was not already spoiled.

[Camulous Smithson]

Camulous listened to Metarie's verbal lashing of Navarre with changing emotions. At first he was surprised - he didn't know what to expect her to say, but assumed it would be nothing but casual conversation. Camulous went from barely acknowledging Navarre with a clearly forced smile mixed with mild disinterest, to looking at Metarie and then back. He tended to keep a stoic demeanor, but something changed in his expression. He was enjoying this.

Metarie really let Navarre have it. Way beyond a polite snub, she made plain what she thought of Navarre and her vision of the city. Camulous knew Metarie had some left-leaning idealism in her, but not that she'd come to the Gala to start an argument. The captain's surprise went from interest to admiration.

She was right, of course. The riots had claimed his father's life and were a direct result of disharmony in the city. Stopping something like that from happening again was what drove Camulous' devotion to the tomes and his loyalty to the government. Hardline interpretations of the tomes from people like Navarre, who dared to bring in foreign arguments about a city he'd never heard of, were the kind of provocations that led to fighting between races. For all her progressive views, at least Metarie kept discourse civilized and academic when she was displeased with the government.

Yet the captain did nothing and said nothing. He barely smiled, but it was clear from his posture that he supported her. When she switched to elvish, he understood enough to catch the gist of it.

Guile spoke up, called Metarie a coward, and Camulous shot him a look that would make a troll piss itself. He clenched his fist with the effort but, again, said nothing. Arguing with someone like that would only make him look bad. The temptation was there to yell and possibly rearrange Guile's impudent face into something less self inflated, but someone in the crowd interjected and stood up for the guard, and Camulous by extension.

Camulous didn't recognize the Luca, who looked about his age and dressed to impress the upper classes in some expensive blue ensemble. That someone present defended the guard came as no surprise. In a city of mixed opinions and a degree of freedom of expression, there was still some loyalty to be found. Navarre was still a vocal minority who took her own safety and freedoms for granted.

[Sebastian Morylin]

Sebastian had had barely a moment to exchange words with the good doctor before he noticed her attention wavered. He had followed her gaze and unsurprisingly, he had seen the captain approach. He wasn't exempt from the gossip of their relationship, but unlike the masses he simply didn't care. It wasn't any of his business. Besides, his own wife had been elf, so who would he be to judge?

The way she had looked at him, it brought back memories of feelings he had not felt in quite some time.

While he had still very much wanted to speak with the captain about his concerns, he had known that this was not the appropriate time. Other than the speech by their young hostess, there had been no sign of trouble. There had been no rush to the door. Neighbors had not picked up salad forks to use against each other. Distant cousins had not yet taken to breaking wine glasses over each others' heads. Other than a few people showing signs of having consumed just a little too much alcohol, everything seemed to be under control for the moment.

Later.Later, he would speak to the captain about his concerns.

He had taken his place back against the wall. Once again going unnoticed by crowd. From there he saw the captain and the doctor head in the direction of Navarre's table, but as he was on the opposite side of the hall there was no way he could see or hear their conversation. However, he only stayed against the wall for the time it took to scan the crowd. He felt as if he could get a better perspective if he kept on his feet and kept moving.

Perhaps the guards just at the front door had something report. With a nod to the nearest guards positioned closest to him, he made his way to the entrance.

[Navarre]

Sehkhara's stunt, while unfortunate, didn't surprise her: the woman had a history of being a moralizing busybody, so inviting her in the first place carried some risk. Her support would've been useful, but she could easily get by without it - tonight's turnout made that clear enough. Sehkhara could criticize all she wanted, wail about injustice until her throat was sore, but Marn's citizens were too ignorant to listen. It was too late - if her pamphlets hadn't instigated the mob mentality, her impassioned eulogy for Modestine surely did. Marn had a scapegoat for its problems, and it was only a matter of time before the bloodbath began.

If Sehkhara wanted to stand in front of an oncoming train, that was her own business.

“My sincerest apologies for that confrontation,” she said to the table, smiling apologetically. “I welcome debate, but there's a time and place. This is John Modestine's night, and with a close friend of his would do disservice to his memory. We may disagree with Doctor Sehkhara, but she is entitled to her opinion.”

For a moment she thought that was the end of the drama, but then Luca opened his mouth. Navarre fought back a sigh. If it wasn't Lorenna, another Abernathy was just around the corner to cause problems. She wondered how Lorenna's parents could've ended up with such foolish relatives, but then she remembered her own family. A flower could still blossom in even the worst garden.

Surely, Lorenna's parents wouldn't mind if she trimmed a weed or two.

Navarre chuckled, once again sipping her wine. “I've always admired your way with words, Luca. Most people only speak when they have something substantial to say, but you have a gift for talking at length about nothing at all. Most people would find that irritating, but I say it's quite endearing.”

“Guess you've found a kindred spirit, Lady Navarre,” Ashleigh mumbled, glancing up from the roll he was chewing on. When he saw the look Alexander was giving him, he flinched and quickly looked back down at the table.

“Always with your quick wit, Ashleigh,” Navarre said, patting him on the shoulder. “I'd like to see you in private for a moment after dinner. But until then, why don't you and Lorenna go off with Luca and entertain him? As much as I enjoy his company, I'm afraid this table's seats are reserved.”

Lorenna brightened up. “That'd be fun! We don't spend nearly enough time together, cousin,” she said, standing and tugging on his arm. “Besides, there's something I wanna ask you.”

[Metarie]

Ree turned with grace, attempting to keep herself together. Confrontation over things not medically related were harder for her than it appeared. Somehow she managed to keep her voice steady and to keep from shaking. Adrenaline rushed through her.

“Cam, if you would see me to my carriage?” Thankfully, no one bothered to stop her leaving, but Ree couldn’t help but overhear Navarre’s comment. As she moved away, Ree murmured for Cam’s ears only.

“Cam, I know... I know I shouldn’t have involved you, but I … I needed you. Thank you for being there. I just know someone will call out your escorting me as a putting me above your duty as Captain and for that I am truly sorry. I hope it doesn’t reflect badly upon you later. I was being selfish.” Ree glanced to Cam to gauge the expression on his face.

“I have no idea what I am doing. I just… have a sense that things are off somehow… with her. I really think she’s completely mad. Yet, if anything happened to her, she would become even more of a figurehead than she is. Don’t you think?“ Her voice trembled slightly in nervousness. “I think I need something to drink or to sit down. I feel like a trembling leaf, but I don’t want to stay here.”

[Vicentius]

Tius watched with a small smile as Talia held the cool goblet to her brow and raised an eyebrow slightly at her expression of gratitude.

"That wasn't the trick actually," he said, "but you're very welcome."

He was about to say more when a war of words broke out at the head table between Isyrion and Metarie. Opting to stay quiet and listen, he nodded at Talia's words and gave her an encouraging smile as she made her exit. Some people were at home at these gatherings and some people were not. It did take some getting used to no matter what one's background was. With any luck, she would keep her head, get some air and be back before he knew it. She looked like she had a strong stomach. Still; he'd been wrong before. Putting her from his mind briefly, he focused his attention on what was being said by those that were, nominally at any rate, his betters, and what he heard was...telling.


Ordinarily he would consider the exact wording of such speeches as immaterial; after all, if he wanted to know all he had to do was wait for the gossip mongers to repeat it ad nauseam until he could parrot it back word for word, but on this occassion he wanted to hear it for himself. After all, there could be something he could use. The table was rather bare, however, on this occassion. It was very very safe, he thought, sipping his punch, far too safe for his mind. It was posturing and declaration of intent as both sides drew their initial battle lines. For him, it meant he could now put a face to the players, and the only real surprise was the good Gcaptain. Was dear Smithson finally stepping off the sidelines? Everyone knew that Oslun was simply a figurehead and Smithson was the real power in the Guard, and with that kind of muscle behind him a man could be very political. Tius doubted that it was any more than a stunt by Metarie to lend backbone to her argument, but whether she intended it to or not it would draw attention to Smithson's affairs. Not that it mattered; no one had any dirt on him it seemed.

For the briefest of moments Tius entertained the idea of Smithson and Oslun at cross purposes. Such scandal! But it would not be. Smithson was too loyal a dog to bite his master. Yet, whispered a dark voice in the back of his mind, he won't make a move yet. Give him the right incentive however... In a large organisation like the Guard there were bound to be differences of opinion about how it was run. Little arguments probably happened all the time and were papered over for the public, but people had long memories and the cracks remained no matter how well they were hidden. Tius cast a long look at how he and Metarie were standing, doing the math. There was something there. Could a person use it? Well, that was a very different question. Right now his position and stance were saying that he wanted to be neutral, but he was standing beside Metarie and he wasn't contradicting her. People took note of that sort of thing.

He was tempted to gauge for more information but now was not the time to press. On instinct he glanced around, looking for the faces he had spotted earlier, but he could not pick htem out in the crowd. The minister was missing and dear Jevan was stuck between two very bright personalities. Tius looked at Isyrion. What had she to gain here? Modestine's death was bound to happen sooner or later; tongues like that didn't wag for long in troubled times. But she seemed...happy about it. IT was hard to explain. Wouldn't it be curious if Paragon were to pull something while things were getting heated here? Such a curious notion. Was Isyrion aware of this possibility? Pure conjecture of course, but it was another entertaining thought. He doubted she had the subtlety or the foresight to play such a detailed game. She was a very...base creature, no matter how she comported herself. Still, there was something in her manner. Something detached and predatory lurked about her these days it seemed. Young Ashleigh could smell it on her to judge his expression, but he was impotent while his father lived. No, he would not go against her. So what should his own position be?

Tius drummed his fingers and took a sip of punch thoughtfully as he looked on. House Morrington was very much anti-Paragon; upstarts being rather bad to the old money way of thinking, but they were also most definitely not pro Isyrion. Immigration brought fresh coin to the city and to the family coffers and riots in the streets were most definitely bad for business. Monetario was all about business after all. He lived and breathed it. No, the Morrington line would be hard on the rebels but unless something drastic happened no harsh actions would be taken. Had he heard someting? Some rumour or other about his cousins? Perhaps it was time to check in on the rest of the family again; shake a few hands and see who was still breathing. It had been too long, but he had been busy. Of course that didn't mean they wouldn't try to swing the situation in their favour, heavens no. He smiled at the thought.

Briefly, he glanced in the direction Talia had gone, wondering what was keeping her. It had really bothered her then. But which part? How close to home was it hitting? When it mattered he would find out; he was certain of this. After all, he always had before, and nobody liked the idea of xenophobic fear in their city. Such worries were not automatically a cause for suspicion. Not that anything would happen. As long as the rabble believed that they could fall back on the Guard as a buffer there would be no widespread panic. The kind of people who would panic preferred to hide behind crowds of rioters anyway. He sighed inwardly, bemoaning the fact that his city was doomed to repeat such riots again and again. It was maddening; the city had the potential to be such a jewel, such a beacon, and it squandered it.

Calming his mind, he finished his drink and crossed to pick up some more food while he waited for Talia to return, all the while listening to the chatter around him. Networking woud have to wait until the shock wore off and he could talk to people alone. If he tried now all he would get would be repetitions of the party line and people hedging their bets. Everyone had a point but nobody wanted to be the first to speak out. It was a sad state of affairs. Sipping his drink, he hummed a tune to himself and visualied the possibilities.

[Azuel Vyaduka]

“What are you doing here?” Azuel demanded to know, placing his hand roughly on his sister’s shoulder once more. He was a fair distance taller than her, and though he was not so cruel as to consciously consider intimidation as a tactic he still glowered down at her furiously. She was clearly unaffected by the display and stared mockingly up at him. It only made him more frustrated, but he took a deep breath and tried to calm himself down. Getting riled up would only make her more amused, and the circle would repeat itself.

His hand rolled from her arm and flopped uselessly down to his side, as if it had suddenly come under the effects of a paralytic agent. Latifa turned to face her brother, her glass now more than half empty.

She made a pouting face, sticking her lower lip out and making her eyes water. “Am I really not allowed to come in support of my little broth-”

“Cut it out.” Azuel interrupted. His head was turned down with his eyes closed as he raised his open palm and brushed off to the side, dismissing the notion with his gestures. “Don’t give me any of that. Why are you here?”

Latifa made a tsk sound and started walking away, “Well, if you’re going to be like that...”

Azuel cringed, but internally he only grew more frustrated. Some days she would have taken this in stride and made fun of him, others she would get offended, and others still she would act offended for the purpose of making fun of him. It was maddening. He sometimes suspected she did it on purpose.

He chased after her again. This too, he suspected was to some sort of end. It was likely a frivolous demonstration of power, forcing him to follow along with her as the leader. If he’d had the time, he might have chewed his nails in frustration.

“Latifa!” He pleaded, catching up to her. A gap in the crowd allowed him to swerve in front of her. With his arms extended ever so slightly too either side, he made his role as an impediment to further progress clear.

She rolled her eyes, but at least she stopped. A smile was on her lips, which further nettled Azuel. That meant it had been the third option. He braced himself for whatever taunts were headed his way.

“Fine,” She said. She put down her glass on a nearby table, which gave Azuel some small measure of relief. “Father asked me to come and play interception. Make sure you didn’t talk with Lady Navarre and give the wrong impression about his views of the whole thing.” She poked him in the stomach with her newly freed hand, “Of course, I know you better than father. I know that you are far too chicken to have ever actually approached her. It’s all baby steps with you.”

Azuel got indignant. His face contorted in ways that made Latifa giggle.

[Shanuri Laleonalia]

Shanuri watched Lady Shekhara storm off. From what she knew of the woman, she was not surprised by her opinion. She was surprised - pleasantly so - by the fact that she had been willing to express it in such a manner. Yes, most of the guests who had overheard were angry and offended on behalf of lady Navarre, but the word would spread. Out in the city, away from those Lady Navarre had wrapped around her fingers, it would reach the ears of those who were not behind her campaign, and of those who liked the doctor or were indebted to her. Navarre may have had most of them, but she did not have all of them.

It is a shame you see us as enemies, dear Doctor. We have the same goal.

She glanced around. Some people were angry, some were making a joke out of the whole scene, some were visibly uncomfortable. The reporters were beside themselves. Lady Navarre herself seemed perfectly calm and composed.

You play the game well. But you haven't won. Not yet.

She stepped around the chatterers, continuing her way towards the backstage. Very soon, someone would be calling for distraction.

[Luca Abernathy]

Luca's grin was about as broad as he could let it be without it becoming a tad ridiculous when the girl made her hilarious attempt to insult him. "Why thank you, Isyrion, it is one of my many charms." The dandy quietly noted Ashleigh's quip and Alexander's response. Curious. It was certainly clever of Isyrion to use his own means of entrance to the conversation as a way to eject him. The girl might be mad, but she wasn't stupid.

However, with the exit of the delightful doctor, Luca had little reason to overstay his welcome. The fop said brightly "You are quite right, Lorenna, it has been far too long." Luca beamed at Navarre as he let Lorenna drag him to his feet "Well, it's been a lovely little 'do, Isyrion, but I have rather neglected Lorenna this evening. Tata!" He'd had his entertainment, and something of a gauge of the lunatic noblewoman's capabilities, so he swanned off on Lorenna's arm with a casual wave to the table he had departed.

Luca guided Lorenna to a quieter corner of the gala "Well, dear coz, what question is rattling around that pretty head of yours?" The dandy casually glanced around the crowd to see if Jacel was still around.