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AetherMUX - Friday, February 25, 2000, 6:57 PM
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You paged Selene with '... ! How'd I get up here!!?'.
Selene pages: Probably when we left the Rialto :)
Long distance to Selene: Julius doesn't know how to fly!!
"I have one wing! I'm going in circles! Help!" ;D
From afar, Selene eeps! "Stop flapping and fall!"
You paged (Selene, Pantoleon, Alcander) with 'You will only
see the following once in your life. Please ignore. :/'.
You soar down into the inner courtyard.
Inner Courtyard - Living Quarters - Palladium - Haven
A colonnade surrounds the perimeter of the inner courtyard,
whose paved paths lead to various domiciles, each built in the
traditional Empyreal style. Tiled roofs, arches, columns, and
even balconies are common features on all the homes, and the
decor is light and airy--much like those who dwell within. There
are no staircases, although there are some residencies that
extend to a second floor, for the occupants have no need of
stairs when they can simply glide through the air. Almost
everything is built of pale marble in shades of white, cream,
or rose, and climbing vines of flowers mirror their hues when
the season is right. A circular fountain graces the middle of
the courtyard, and residents can often be found seated at its
edge, whiling away a few hours.
Contents:
Selene
Alcander
Pantoleon
Selene laughs :)
Long distance to Selene: Julius does so. "Mommy!
From afar, Selene catches you with her wimpy girly arms, which
doesn't help much. *OW*
Alcander says, "Why...gracious...you are SO much the perfect
Jove. :)"
Pantoleon grins, then laughs as julius talks his ear off ooc
about 'Advice: dont fly with one (crappy) wing... Yipe.
You paged Selene with 'flying... bad.... very bad...'.
Julius is scarred for life y'know.
Alcander says, "After seeing you, my dear man...so am I."
The inky cloak of night has been drawn over the city, drawing mongrels
from the houses to illuminate the courtyard so that any resident night-
owls won't find themselves stumbling in the darkness. As the slaves makes
their way to the garden to continue the evening ritual they are brought
to a halt, blocked from leaving by a pair of Acesian guards who lead a
pair of nobles. Selene leans against her cousin, Julius, her wings
shaking from some unknown fright, while four members of the Praetorian
guard follow the first four until they are safely in the residential
courtyard. Secure in the knowledge that there is no further risk of harm,
the four Praetors briefly bid farewell to the nobles and the house guard
before departing, leaving by air rather than on foot.
The Deus of House Acesius had been passing a few idle moments with what
many might call the resident expert on idle time, his dear cousin Alcander
...such idle chatter is silenced as Pantoleon's eyes fall upon Selene, so
distraught that it takes him half a moment to recognize her... "Forgive me,
Alcander, I fear I have lost interest in the House Wines...." in a rather
detached voice as he starts across the plaza towards the band at a rapidly
increasing pace...
Julius has wrapped an arm around his cousin, comforting if only for the
strength of his hold. His face is stern and neutraled, nodding his head
to those who leave almost with authority if it wasn't for the slight slope
in his back. Surveying the area ahead, blue eyes filled with some inner
storm catch sight of a man he doesn't know and stay there...
His lounging, for that is what Alcander does, decries what he often does
in private: eschew the bored chitchat of the wealthy nobleman and converse
about politics and the prospective rise to power of Acesius. But as Selene
approaches and Pantoleon flees toward her, he rises more languidly. The
world seems to have a different pace for the idle richboy..._seems_ to have.
The courtyard's torchlight is no friend to the Dea as they accentuate the
lines in her face, making them into deep furrows rather than the slight
wrinkles cause from fear and worry. Her eyes go from the ground just
before her to her handicapped cousin who acts as a crutch for her frayed
nerves, the latter receiving a faint smile of her appreciation each time
her gaze swings to him. Her free hand, hen not grasping the wrist of her
other arm, tugs at the dusky orange palla that hangs around her shoulders
in an attempt to ward of more than just the cold.
Where to begin? With the unfortunate Guards who happen to escort his wife
home in such an unexplained state, "You, Captain." Pantoleon demands of
the senior, tone more stern than ever it is when addressing his ministers,
"You will explain this at once." And before awaiting an answer, he takes
the last step which keeps him apart from Selene, murmering softly, "Selene,
what has happened?" The other gentleman has gone wholly unnoticed.
Julius watches the man cross forward and demand of the guards, still
holding a steadfast arm to his cousin's side. Unsure of who he is, he
obviously has those guardsmen under his employ and so he keeps silent,
not his place to explain.
Alcander's pace is more subdued, but for all that, thunder is in his eyes.
The man may have the lazy playboy image down pat, but in those pretty pale
irises is a wellspring of irritation at whatever may have befallen Selene.
PANTOLEON
His face is chiseled from marble, its angular and strong features
highlighted by eyes of bright blue--akin to the sky on a clear summer day.
Upon this appealing visage is an expression as composed as it is joyful. His
thin lips constantly struggle to contain the smile that lurks just beneath his
composure, threatening at any moment to burst free, and reveal to the world
how happy this day has made him. The deeper groves texturing his skin reveal
him to no longer be a young man, instead perhaps middle aged. Topping an
impressive 96 fingers tall, he presents a well manicured and handsome figure
of modest weight and brawn.
He is garbed in a white silken toga atop a tunic of white so flawless
that the only shade of purity to match it is the clean shine of his angel's
wings. The noble's garment sweeps to rest upon the tops of the supple leather
sandals on his feet and covers the straps winding up around his calves.
Beautiful golden earings dangle above a emerald and ruby studded ringlet
encircling his neck and the two exquisite matching bracelets glittering with
precious gems. An ornate golden cameo is affixed to his raiment which in
delicate artwork proclaims its bearer to be of the supremely noble House Acesius.
ALCANDER
The onset of middle age has been insignificant and noticeable only
in the silver introduced into otherwise golden brown locks and a modicum of
lines on his countenance. Otherwise, what has lived over forty years appears
to be a decade younger, particularly when the affable gleam of his eyes
(arrestingly dark and brown) sparks with boyish joie de vivre. The athletic
build of his younger years remains, with long limbs conditioned to throwing
discus and javelin and upper body developed by service in the Praetorian
Guard. An active lifestyle has preserved this build, and certainly the biceps
and well-defined pectorals imply that the discus and javelin would still
travel quite a distance were they hurled today. Grace inhabits that sinewy
frame, and when he speaks with his hands -- a habit of many years -- his
gestures sketch images into the empty air.
He wears a man's tunic of white linen, styled and tailored for him
alone (or so the fit would suggest). Above the tunic is a toga of pale
orange brocade in which are woven the designs of the Sun of Apollo and edged
with gold about the lacinia; it is properly worn across his left shoulder
and draped around his torso to his right side. Behind said tunic and toga,
his snowy wings, tipped with hints of silver, flare upward with dignified
pride befitting to his station. Lastly, modestly, sandals of pale brown
leather protect his feet.
Selene glances up sharply, but rather than the foul image of the Nayaka,
she is met with the precious image of her husband, though that image is
marred by worry. Fear scatters from her visage and Selene does her best
to put on a smile for Pantoleon, but finds herself failing miserably. "Ave,"
she greets simply, giving another to her cousin who hangs back. "I ... I am
just a little shaken, Pantoleon. You must be certian to thank my cousin,"
she pats Julius' arm and turns her smile to him, "for his aid and support.
I happened upon that lapdog of the Halfbreed in the Rialto. Rather, he
stormed over to us, looking for an excuse to harm yet another Empyrean,
no doubt."
A brief and sidelong glance is indeed given to this..'cousin,' but no words
of thanks issue forth. A second look goes to the Guard who still stands mute,
anger growing to rapidly usurp rule of the Deus' expression...Of those
present, either his wife or cousin might note how unlike Pantoleon such an
unconcealed display truly is. "Lapdog of the Varati?" he repeats slowly,
voice unpleasant in it's severity, as his unblinking stare remains upon
the Captain. This had better be good.
Julius stands at his place a bit behind, still available for support but
well enough to let his cousin stand on her own... a feat she has overproven
herself able to in the past hour. Still schooled and stoic, he watches the
man in front of him grow with anger and gives a notable glance to the one
who hasn't spoken yet as he tries to discern who they are...
Well, one thing is for certain, at least in Alcander's eyes: Julius is no
Acesian. That makes him beneath notice. For now. A dismissive glance is
given to the scarred creature before he casts a less frosty look toward
Selene. "That sounds," drawls the Deus's cousin, "like the rutting pig
called Faisal."
The Acesian guard captian swallows hard, but retains the stoic features of
any of the guard that stand before the gates of each house. He delivers a
brief nod to Alcander. "The Dominus is correct, Deus. The one named Faisal
stormed into the Rialto with the obvious appearance that he was looking for
someone to take some unknown agression out on. There was no assault on your
Dea wife, the creature was diverted when it was learned the Dea has a
distant blood relation to the God-King's wife." The captain draws silent
and waits for Pantoleon's response. Selene nods along with the account
delivered by the Captain, but speaks nothing once his voice has gone silent,
she simply waits.
Faisal. No matter that no harm was done, in body...no matter that it was
some shameful tie to a despicable excuse for an Empyrean, the fact that
the Seraskier was near enough to so much as speak to Selene is enough to
feed Pantoleon's anger. "So what you mean to tell me, Captain," he begins,
words knowing the control his face, wings and posture lack, "Is that you
not only allowed an -armed- Varati near enough to burden your Dea with
words, but you did not /think/ that that Wretched Halfbreed's personal
murderer presented any cause for *concern?*" The pale blue of Pantoleon's
eyes is all but obscured by the angry Nobleman's glowering brows.
Julius frowns as well, a small passing look of guilt on his behalf is
noted as Pantoleon says aloud what he had been thinking since they
exited the Rialto. Coulds, shoulds, woulds... his mouth forms a tight
line as his eyebrows knit above his nose, still quiet and observant.
"Faisal is the sort of man who is difficut to deter," Alcander murmurs
as he loosens his cloak and offers it to Selene to compliment her
thinner garment. "I wonder if a slit throat would sufficiently deter him."
Selene takes the offered garment and murmurs a word of thanks to her
cousin before swinging her attention back to her husband. The Guard clears
his throat to speak, but is deterred by the quick hand of Selene that
falls on his arm to silence him. "He spoke true, Pantoleon. We were on
Haven's territory and after seeing countless Empyreans go to a cell simply
in defense of another Empyrean I will not have my house guard under lock
and key." Alright, so maybe not countless, but with the Ceterion Antoninus
there time and time again, it seems like countless. "The only assult I
suffered was his rank breath and a few questions as to my house and bloodline."
She tucks the cloak under her wings and brings it up around her shoulders,
eyes staring up at those of her husband.
Pantoleon turns to glare at Alcander as his cousin commits the offense of
drawing his attention at this less than diplomatic moment, "Then cut his
throat for all I care!" Turning back again, he raises a hand to force
back a few of his own strands of hair which have swung in the way of his
furious stare. Even Selene's words and face are not enough to calm him,
after all, she should never have undergone this trial, "You cannot
honestly hope that I order my Guardsmen to /trust/ that those abominations
would not harm you as soon as utter a word!" To the Guard again,
"Dismissed, *Lieutentant*, you shall count yourself /fortunate/." Fine
boned hands draw into fists from which they are forcibly relaxed.
Alcander tsks and gives a faint smile, bowing to the Deus, then to
Selene..and, faintly, to Julius. His particular brand of conversation,
political baiting, and dry humor is lost here...and apparently he has
work to do. "Vale, Domini, Dea."
From Pantoleon's tirade, Julius finds words for himself. As the man before
him fumes and the guards take their hurried leave, the silver-haired man
speaks with a voice broken, parched and soft, almost inaudible. "You may
not trust the... Varati," he speaks the word with some difficulty, "but
I would assume you would trust Selene, Dominus. From this day and those
before it, she has obviously proven herself stronger than that Agni-Haidar
by being sharper of mind than he and /obviously/ stands her unharmed,"
the weak stress of his words give him a little solace for his inaction.
Looking to his cousin, he continues, "I know that her judgement is sound
enough to find aid should she consider herself in danger."
Selene is silenced by the strength of the words that come for her
crippled cousin and she turns to him to stare in awe, not to mention
that he basically talked back to the Deus of Acesius, something that's
rarely done under any circumstance. Usually at such compliments on her
character she would blush, but no faint blooms of color touch her cheeks,
as her fear has transferred from the incident in the Rialto that that of
the current situation. Slowly, almost with hesitation, her eyes turn back
to her husband, nervous about what she might find. She had heard of the
tirades of his late brother, could Pantoleon be stepping into Lysander's
place?
Impressive...but not at all amusing. At first not quite believing that this
unknown cousin of Jove is defying him in this, and then believing, and
lastly growing in anger due to this. Drawing a breath of the nighttime air,
the Deus' eyes are all but alight as he shouts, "Silence!" Pausing only
long enough to fix his full attention on the younger man, "That Selene stand
superior to every Varati ever to live I do not doubt. But to think, nay,
to *tell me* that I am to blindly accept that /Faisal/ would obey the
dictates of civility? Such is BLIND IDIOCY!" Face beginning to darken with
the intensity of the moment, "I shall not again allow her life to be in the
grasp of a common *animal* and no man, boy or dog shall /ever again/ tell
me the worth of her life!" By now the Deus' voice has risen to a shout
which fills the courtyard.
The tempest of the Deus' words blow through Julius like a winter's wind,
chilling his bones and hardening his heart. The anger burning in him from
being so near his former captors and the defiance so deep a part of him
allows him to still stand... and stand strong. Blue eyes bright, the echo
of Pantoleon's words only bring notible attention to the smaller man's
whispery voice, somehow gaining a bit of strength to speak into the storm.
He's heard worse from worse and this man's apparent overflow of emotion is
nothing for Julius to fear. Bent shoulders square themselves, formerly
broken back righting itself to his modest hieght and a jaw set as he speaks
holding back any possible sign of emotion, "I never doubted your faith in
Selene. I do not doubt it now. Those are your words and not mine. I also
did not attempt to 'tell you' anything, merely bring to your attention points
I am sure you were and are aware of. My cousin is a strong and noble woman,
strong enough to think for herself in the face of any adversity no matter how
barbaric or lacking in 'civility'. She carried herself exceedingly well, a
fact I am sure you are proud of as am I. Such anger you display shows nothing
of the sort."
It's true, Selene bore herself as a proper noblewoman in the face of that
creature, though unable to hide her disgust at the smells that poured from
Faisal's mouth, she never cowered this night. Not until the usually tender
voice of her husband's echos like a storm through the courtyard, drawing more
than a couple faces from the house interiors to investigate. There is a sudden
sharp pain that inflicts her visage, unaware, perhaps that such rage could
exist within her husband. "Pantoleon, please," she begs, stepping between her
husband and her cousin lest the two come to blows. "My cousin means no insult
to you or your beliefs. Such energy is wasted in fruitless debate over
something that never even happened."
His gaze goes to Selene as she steps in front of him. Lessened in volume,
but not in intensity, Pantoleon takes and releases a long breath, once again
forcing his clenched fists to relax, and answers "Over insults to me, I care
not. But for your life, Selene, I care above all else. You never saw Lycenae.
You did not see Aeneas' wing after that misshapen wretch Faisal started that
brawl in the Rialto. You do not know what these /monsters/ are. Varati are
murderous animals, is it so impossable to fathom why I might hate the worst
of these monsters to have his hand about my wife's throat?" Despite his best
efforts, Pantoleon's tenor escalates once again to a shout.
A small vein stands out on Julius' neck, unhidden by silver hair as his throat
muscles strain to keep his jaw in check and face still neatly kept impassive.
Calloused fingers curl into scarred palms, eyes still shaped into a inscrutable
mask as he listens rather calmly to Pantoleon's rant. After which a pause leads
into his last words, still in broken fashion, "Selene still lives, unharmed and
stronger for her actions. Surely shaken, but still here and able to reason with
someone in such a state who has seemingly let his concern overshadow her
accomplishments." the word 'wife' is remembered and things begin to fit into
place.
Deep down inside her, the part that wishes for order and civility tags
insessantly at Selene's mind, announcing that no formal introduction has been
given between the two men, but Selene silences it, doubting a friendly ending
to this tirade. She takes note of faces that appear in windows or in the shadows.
Not just mongrels, but shadows bearing wings investigate the goings-on in the
courtyard. "Pantoleon, please," she begs again, oblivious to the fact that it
hadn't worked the first time, or perhaps just sadly optomistic. "What would you
prefer, that I remain behind swords while the Varati laugh that one of the nobles
cannot stand up for herself, or would you prefer I remain forever behind these
marble walls, never even glimpsing the world outside of the Palladium? Never
doubt for a moment that your guards would have defended my should that creature
have even touched me, and honestly, it felt *good* to deny him his desires to
watch the creature sulk off knowing he could not touch me. I felt a sense of
power and damn all the Gods if I'm going to allow you to take that from me."
Ignoring her own pleas to her husband, Selene finds her voice rising until she
is yelling in a voice easily matching the level of her husband.
Selene says, "Holy spam! Sorry"
Pantoleon says, "Aw Yeah!!!"
Julius cheers, "Kick ass cos!"
Selene struts
Pantoleon readies a hot retort, but Selene does not cease speaking...and when
her speech does end it is only to give way to shouting. As shocked as Pantoleon's
anger must have made Selene, how much more so for the demure and flawlessly proper
Selene to raise her ire so...For a moment, Pantoleon is forced to reconsider his
opinion, eyes narrowing slightly as his wife's cries continue. By thier end he is
once more in control of himself, even if the tension has not fled his wings or
hands fully. "I am glad for that, Selene," He begins, voice only slightly above
his usual conversational tone, "But the Gods will claim me before I again let
thier prized daughter come so near to harm such as this. Curses, Selene! I
swore before the Gods and my Empyror, your cousin to keep you safe...And while
I am joyous that you triumphed over this wretch, I'll burn in Hades' clutches
before losing another loved one to those animals..." Another long breath, the
Deus blinks slowly, and once his eyes open they are no longer so narrow. Now he
too takes note of thier..audience, "I daresay this. talk can be completed indoors?
You have been upon your feet to long here. Your cousin," he adds with a more
diplomatic look towards the one winged Jovian, "is of course welcome." If that
was anything less than sincere, it is well masked.
Julius watches between husband and wife with impassiveness, catching the eyes
of a few onlookers as well. He always had held Selene in highest esteems since
the day she took him in, called him by his name and accepted him despite his
broken body. But today, he could not find a high enough pedistal to set his
cousin upon, nor fill his heart anymore that he has even a portion of the same
blood as she running through his veins. The other... only in asking to retire
has he shown any common sense. But such opinion is kept to himself as he looks
to the Empyrean noblewoman for what her next move will be. Softly, he says, "If
you wish my support to take you inside, I would be honoured." He can not keep the
prideful tone from his voice.
Selene awwws and blushes severely
Julius wants to be like Selene when he grows up.
Selene smiles :)
More than enough shadows watch the trio for Selene's comfort and with a nod of
her head she agrees to adjourn the meeting inside, where only Acesian servants
might hear. For reasons unknown to anyone but herself, she slips her arm within
that of her cousin and continues on into her household, makes makes no offer to
her husband, leaving him to follow.
Selene passes through one of the double doors beneath the gold disk of Apollo.
Selene has left.
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