On the matter of where Desiree would be assigned, the other girls began to talk all at once. Speculating about that kind of thing -- well, to them, it was like betting on horse races. It was Anfisa who shushed them - "Can't you see she's tired?" - and Irina nodded, adding: "The truth is, we don't really know. It's a subtle point, whether one of us will be shifted to someone new, or we'll be left in place and you'll get someone else."
Dina seemed a little disappointed that the talk ended there - as Desiree was already starting to gather, the girl with the rubies from the nouveau riche clan seemed the most comfortable with frank sexual talk. The others used more euphemisms and evasions, though a woman of Desiree's experience would have no trouble in piecing together what any of them meant in that regard.
Honeysuckle scent wasn't available, alas, but Irina and Anfisa were both willing and eager to show Desiree what they did have, and to share it out to make her first night here a success. "You make your reputation right away," said Irina, "and here, at least, we've figured out that what's good for one of us is good for all." The "us" seemed to encompass the geteroi in this room, not anyone else. There was the tiniest hint of hardness in the way she said it, too -- a subtle signal as to the attitudes that were and weren't acceptable in this band.
"Is there somewhere I might rest for a few hours? I want to make sure I'm well rested for tonight."
"But of course," said Anfisa, and several of them guided Desiree to a side room with a broad, well-cushioned couch, a washbasin with rosewater, and other simple comforts. And then it was big, well-muscled Valentina, who'd been the quietest of the lot, who offered a friendly massage "after your hard journey" to help Desiree relax. This was a frustration to two of them, but there was really no gracious way to refuse, and so she must submit. Strong, skilled fingers -- though not as sensuous as her own -- soon had her well relaxed. The flame of consciousness wavered in the breeze, and was out.
Valentina then withdrew from the room, drew the curtains, and joined the others in a whispery but spirited argument about who was the most likely to get her after all.
[OOC: I could game all night, but I daren't. I'm off to bed. Catch you later!]
Goriel and beyond, part 2
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Alberich
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Drusia
- Veteran of the Errant War
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Re: Goriel and beyond, part 2
"But of course," said Anfisa, and several of them guided Desiree to a side room with a broad, well-cushioned couch, a washbasin with rosewater, and other simple comforts. And then it was big, well-muscled Valentina, who'd been the quietest of the lot, who offered a friendly massage "after your hard journey" to help Desiree relax. This was a frustration to two of them, but there was really no gracious way to refuse, and so she must submit. Strong, skilled fingers -- though not as sensuous as her own -- soon had her well relaxed. The flame of consciousness wavered in the breeze, and was out.
Valentina then withdrew from the room, drew the curtains, and joined the others in a whispery but spirited argument about who was the most likely to get her after all.
I wait a full minute after the curtains close before opening my eyes. I've only been up a few hours - as nice as the massage was, I'm not about to let myself sleep just yet.
Instead, I listen in to their whispered conversation. I might learn something.
And who knows... maybe Anfisa will come to check on me in a bit.
In either case, it is nice to just lay here for a bit. It's been a tense morning, and will be a tense evening in all likelyhood. A little rest and relaxation, even without actual sleep, is just what I need.
-- Desiree
OOC: It's actually pretty hard to fall asleep during a massage - for me anyway. As for sleep IRL - I understand, and need to head that way myself. Still, I want to be ready to continue tomorrow, so no sleepy time for Desiree. And feel free to post any interesting conversational tidbits she might overhear.
Valentina then withdrew from the room, drew the curtains, and joined the others in a whispery but spirited argument about who was the most likely to get her after all.
I wait a full minute after the curtains close before opening my eyes. I've only been up a few hours - as nice as the massage was, I'm not about to let myself sleep just yet.
Instead, I listen in to their whispered conversation. I might learn something.
And who knows... maybe Anfisa will come to check on me in a bit.
In either case, it is nice to just lay here for a bit. It's been a tense morning, and will be a tense evening in all likelyhood. A little rest and relaxation, even without actual sleep, is just what I need.
-- Desiree
OOC: It's actually pretty hard to fall asleep during a massage - for me anyway. As for sleep IRL - I understand, and need to head that way myself. Still, I want to be ready to continue tomorrow, so no sleepy time for Desiree. And feel free to post any interesting conversational tidbits she might overhear.
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Alberich
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Re: Goriel and beyond, part 2
The first part of the conversation was weighing the chances of lots of men with excess "y" sounds in their names - scraps of knowledge with no context for Desiree's benefit.
[OOC: But if she runs into a situation where something she heard is of interest, I'll insert it at that point. Likewise, I'm going to stop typing, "as Desiree would learn soon enough" and things like that. Just assume that the background stuff I mention, if it's the kind of thing the geteroi would know, she learns in good time in her conversations with them.]
But the one thing she could gather is that the choice had to do with the men and their status and desires, and how these matched with the privilege of being assigned Desiree. It wasn't a matter of Desiree's own honor - that lay in simply being maintained as a getera at all and in her reputation. The Chamberlain was not raising or lowering her status when he assigned her to this man or that. (Wives, by contrast, drew almost all their status from their husbands.)
The talk turned to which men would most like her charms, which on Dina's lips turned to talk about the charms themselves. All seemed agreed that Desiree was gorgeous in every way, and moved with a sensuality that would draw all eyes upon her. Valentina spoke well of her muscle tone also. There was no sign of jealousy in all this - for whatever reason, these ladies seemed at ease with their own status and each other's, though not always with everyone else's.
Their discussion of her various points showed that they were all quite observant, at least of the body, and had given her a thorough looking-over even while she was dressed. It was Dina who raised the subject of her ears - howsoever well her hairstyle might be made to hide them, she'd been looked at too closely for these not to be noticed. There was much excited whispering, and speculation as to whether she'd had some kind of magical cosmetic surgery, to make herself more exotic - and whether that meant she imagined herself a cut above the rest (Anfisa came to her defense on that one, and Irina was inclined to give her the benefit of the doubt). None of them betrayed the slightest knowledge of what an "elf" or "half-elf" was, and maybe that was for the best.
Anfisa steered the conversation away from there on purpose, simply by inviting Dina to talk about "that man, whose 'parts' bent the wrong way" -- and the conversation naturally turned to the foibles of men. While geteroi were expected to keep a man's intimate secrets in general, and in particular never to reveal that one was a bit less virile than his public face required, in private among themselves it was a different matter. Some of these men were from other clans where the ladies had come from or been lent, and they seemed to be using private nicknames for the Duravsky men, so once more it was hard to give anything they said any context. Doubly so as she knew nothing of the local men, or what truths might be assumed among these experienced geteroi.
With such talk they whiled away the time. Anfisa, believing Desiree to be asleep, naturally did her the courtesy of leaving her in peace. And the evening approached and the time to make ready.
[OOC: More later.]
[OOC: But if she runs into a situation where something she heard is of interest, I'll insert it at that point. Likewise, I'm going to stop typing, "as Desiree would learn soon enough" and things like that. Just assume that the background stuff I mention, if it's the kind of thing the geteroi would know, she learns in good time in her conversations with them.]
But the one thing she could gather is that the choice had to do with the men and their status and desires, and how these matched with the privilege of being assigned Desiree. It wasn't a matter of Desiree's own honor - that lay in simply being maintained as a getera at all and in her reputation. The Chamberlain was not raising or lowering her status when he assigned her to this man or that. (Wives, by contrast, drew almost all their status from their husbands.)
The talk turned to which men would most like her charms, which on Dina's lips turned to talk about the charms themselves. All seemed agreed that Desiree was gorgeous in every way, and moved with a sensuality that would draw all eyes upon her. Valentina spoke well of her muscle tone also. There was no sign of jealousy in all this - for whatever reason, these ladies seemed at ease with their own status and each other's, though not always with everyone else's.
Their discussion of her various points showed that they were all quite observant, at least of the body, and had given her a thorough looking-over even while she was dressed. It was Dina who raised the subject of her ears - howsoever well her hairstyle might be made to hide them, she'd been looked at too closely for these not to be noticed. There was much excited whispering, and speculation as to whether she'd had some kind of magical cosmetic surgery, to make herself more exotic - and whether that meant she imagined herself a cut above the rest (Anfisa came to her defense on that one, and Irina was inclined to give her the benefit of the doubt). None of them betrayed the slightest knowledge of what an "elf" or "half-elf" was, and maybe that was for the best.
Anfisa steered the conversation away from there on purpose, simply by inviting Dina to talk about "that man, whose 'parts' bent the wrong way" -- and the conversation naturally turned to the foibles of men. While geteroi were expected to keep a man's intimate secrets in general, and in particular never to reveal that one was a bit less virile than his public face required, in private among themselves it was a different matter. Some of these men were from other clans where the ladies had come from or been lent, and they seemed to be using private nicknames for the Duravsky men, so once more it was hard to give anything they said any context. Doubly so as she knew nothing of the local men, or what truths might be assumed among these experienced geteroi.
With such talk they whiled away the time. Anfisa, believing Desiree to be asleep, naturally did her the courtesy of leaving her in peace. And the evening approached and the time to make ready.
[OOC: More later.]
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Graybeard
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Re: Goriel and beyond, part 2
[OOC: To move the other sub-thread forward a bit:]
Meanwhile, the foragers for fuel were returning to the Bonny Read.
"RAAWWK!" Thurston said, dropping his cigar. "Where'd they get all that stuff, boss?"
It was a good question, Rip had to admit. They were returning with large containers of fuel for the engines, of course, and equally predictably, they also had large flagons of strong drink. (In fact, the two were basically indistinguishable.) But the other things ...
"Let me take inventory here," he said, picking a random forager to interview (and choosing Angrist, who of course couldn't or wouldn't talk). "You're carrying a crate full of women's underwear, half a dozen dwarf-size ball gags, a case of chartreuse-colored lipstick, a fireplace bellows that seems to emit faint magic, and --" he paused to make sure he had this one right -- "a half-grown kangaroo." He sighed. "Well, there's nothing in there we can't carry, I suppose, although we'll have to be careful with the bellows. Let's get flying."
Meanwhile, the foragers for fuel were returning to the Bonny Read.
"RAAWWK!" Thurston said, dropping his cigar. "Where'd they get all that stuff, boss?"
It was a good question, Rip had to admit. They were returning with large containers of fuel for the engines, of course, and equally predictably, they also had large flagons of strong drink. (In fact, the two were basically indistinguishable.) But the other things ...
"Let me take inventory here," he said, picking a random forager to interview (and choosing Angrist, who of course couldn't or wouldn't talk). "You're carrying a crate full of women's underwear, half a dozen dwarf-size ball gags, a case of chartreuse-colored lipstick, a fireplace bellows that seems to emit faint magic, and --" he paused to make sure he had this one right -- "a half-grown kangaroo." He sighed. "Well, there's nothing in there we can't carry, I suppose, although we'll have to be careful with the bellows. Let's get flying."
Because old is wise, does good, and above all, kicks ass.
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Drusia
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Re: Goriel and beyond, part 2
It was Dina who raised the subject of her ears - there was much excited whispering, and speculation as to whether she'd had some kind of magical cosmetic surgery, to make herself more exotic - and whether that meant she imagined herself a cut above the rest (Anfisa came to her defense on that one, and Irina was inclined to give her the benefit of the doubt). None of them betrayed the slightest knowledge of what an "elf" or "half-elf" was, and maybe that was for the best.
I smile a bit at that. I'd expected that to come up much sooner - I guess they were being polite? Anyway, whenever someone asks me to my face, I'll be ready to answer them. Until then, the best defense of my answer is acting as if explaining my ears hadn't even occured to me.
When nothing pertinant comes up, I allow myself to doze a bit. I imagine the others do the same - this must have been an early morning for everyone.
Hours later, there is a rustle at the curtain. Anfisa, I think, here to wake me up so I can get ready. I keep my eyes closed and wait to see how she goes about it - and whether she attempts to get a private word with me before we move on to whatever preparations await me.
-- Desiree
I smile a bit at that. I'd expected that to come up much sooner - I guess they were being polite? Anyway, whenever someone asks me to my face, I'll be ready to answer them. Until then, the best defense of my answer is acting as if explaining my ears hadn't even occured to me.
When nothing pertinant comes up, I allow myself to doze a bit. I imagine the others do the same - this must have been an early morning for everyone.
Hours later, there is a rustle at the curtain. Anfisa, I think, here to wake me up so I can get ready. I keep my eyes closed and wait to see how she goes about it - and whether she attempts to get a private word with me before we move on to whatever preparations await me.
-- Desiree
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Alberich
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Re: Goriel and beyond, part 2
To Deisree's disappointment, the rustle turned out to be Irina - taking the responsibility, in her senior role, to make sure the new getera was ready for the evening. The healer had arrived a bit early for the day's business - an older man named Oleg Finnovitch (but the geteroi didn't use the patronymic - men used those among themselves), apparently older even than Lord Arman himself, and apparently inured to luscious femininity, at least enough to concentrate on his work.
(There was a rumor in Snamish that Desiree didn't know "male members" were ever anything but erect - "because, by the time she gets close enough to see, they always are." Whether this was spread by her admirers or detractors is a separate question. But this human was singularly unresponsive...though she bet she could meet that challenge...well, but he was not the master, just the doctor tonight.)
The thick-fingered old retainer started first with Desiree in the entry hall, laying his fingertips on her in quite a non-sensual way. As his eyes closed and his power flowed, she realized what he was doing -- purging infections and checking for any he could not purge. Of course, she was quite clean, and was far better at this than he was, but that didn't mean she had to tell. By the time he was through, all the girls were assembled, and he laid contraceptive spells on them all. That did not take so long. In a place like Tsuiraku or Snamish or even the Veracian Church this man would be a minor player among mages. Here he had some importance.
With the extra time he'd taken that left only a little while for the geteroi to make ready. Irina explained that this evening was not a feast, but only a dinner, among the Duravsky; but of course everyone would want to be presentable. The others were well on the way to making themselves ready but all hands would pitch in to help Desiree. Unfortunately, they flocked around so thick that a minute alone with Anfisa before dinner was out of the question. Still, the night had to end sometime...
[OOC: La la la la laaaa....]
(There was a rumor in Snamish that Desiree didn't know "male members" were ever anything but erect - "because, by the time she gets close enough to see, they always are." Whether this was spread by her admirers or detractors is a separate question. But this human was singularly unresponsive...though she bet she could meet that challenge...well, but he was not the master, just the doctor tonight.)
The thick-fingered old retainer started first with Desiree in the entry hall, laying his fingertips on her in quite a non-sensual way. As his eyes closed and his power flowed, she realized what he was doing -- purging infections and checking for any he could not purge. Of course, she was quite clean, and was far better at this than he was, but that didn't mean she had to tell. By the time he was through, all the girls were assembled, and he laid contraceptive spells on them all. That did not take so long. In a place like Tsuiraku or Snamish or even the Veracian Church this man would be a minor player among mages. Here he had some importance.
With the extra time he'd taken that left only a little while for the geteroi to make ready. Irina explained that this evening was not a feast, but only a dinner, among the Duravsky; but of course everyone would want to be presentable. The others were well on the way to making themselves ready but all hands would pitch in to help Desiree. Unfortunately, they flocked around so thick that a minute alone with Anfisa before dinner was out of the question. Still, the night had to end sometime...
[OOC: La la la la laaaa....]
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Drusia
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Re: Goriel and beyond, part 2
all the girls were assembled, and he laid contraceptive spells on them all.
I note his technique. It is... servicable, I suppose. I prefer my contraception spell, which requires less mana to maintain and thus disrupts the flow of mana in the body less. It occurs to me, rather too late, that I've never asked Rose or Lillith how they cast the contraceptions spell. Most of the women in Snamish use the same technique as I do - invented, of course, by my mother. Not that she cares to use it particularly often....
With the extra time he'd taken that left only a little while for the geteroi to make ready. Irina explained that this evening was not a feast, but only a dinner, among the Duravsky; but of course everyone would want to be presentable. The others were well on the way to making themselves ready but all hands would pitch in to help Desiree.
I strip and take a quick sponge bath to clear off the dust from the city roads and any lingering perfume from this morning. Then, with some help, I get dressed again - might as well wear the beautiful clothes Lillith made me while I have the chance - and select some perfume. There is a distinct lack of fresh, spring time scents here - must be the wrong region - but they have musks. I find a warm amber perfume that suits me well enough, and apply a little to my wrists, neck, and clevage.
Watching Irina get dressed, I am struck by an odd realization - she and I look rather a lot alike. She could be my elder sister, or perhaps my mother. Her breasts are larger than mine, her hair and skin color are similar to mine (her hair is a darker shade of gold than mine, my skin is a bit more tan than hers), and we are of a similar height (she being tall for a human woman, and I being short for a half-elven woman). Our main differences are in the face - her nose is larger than mine, my half-elven ears are much larger than hers, her cheek-bones are stronger and more prominant than mine - and those differences aren't enough to really hurt the resembelance.
Oh well, no matter - if anything, it helps me fit in better, since my looks aren't that unusual.
Once we're ready, guards arrive to take us to the dinner. Once we arrive, the others will go to their tasks - and I will be presented to Arman, the Prime Minister.
I take a deep breath, keep my eyes lowered, and follow the others out of the zenana.
-- Desiree
OOC:
(There was a rumor in Snamish that Desiree didn't know "male members" were ever anything but erect - "because, by the time she gets close enough to see, they always are." Whether this was spread by her admirers or detractors is a separate question.)
Um... this seems an unlikely rumor. Possibly a (bad) joke, but it is unlikely that anyone would take such a belief seriously. As I'm sure everyone here is aware, after a man is finished and goes to sleep... generally the flag comes down, and gets folded up and put away. Metaphorically speaking. I have difficulty imagining any woman who's slept with a man not knowing that.
Oh, and as far as the old doctor goes... eeww. Desiree has no desire to test her skills there. She will if ordered to, but she'd far prefer someone a bit fresher. :p
I note his technique. It is... servicable, I suppose. I prefer my contraception spell, which requires less mana to maintain and thus disrupts the flow of mana in the body less. It occurs to me, rather too late, that I've never asked Rose or Lillith how they cast the contraceptions spell. Most of the women in Snamish use the same technique as I do - invented, of course, by my mother. Not that she cares to use it particularly often....
With the extra time he'd taken that left only a little while for the geteroi to make ready. Irina explained that this evening was not a feast, but only a dinner, among the Duravsky; but of course everyone would want to be presentable. The others were well on the way to making themselves ready but all hands would pitch in to help Desiree.
I strip and take a quick sponge bath to clear off the dust from the city roads and any lingering perfume from this morning. Then, with some help, I get dressed again - might as well wear the beautiful clothes Lillith made me while I have the chance - and select some perfume. There is a distinct lack of fresh, spring time scents here - must be the wrong region - but they have musks. I find a warm amber perfume that suits me well enough, and apply a little to my wrists, neck, and clevage.
Watching Irina get dressed, I am struck by an odd realization - she and I look rather a lot alike. She could be my elder sister, or perhaps my mother. Her breasts are larger than mine, her hair and skin color are similar to mine (her hair is a darker shade of gold than mine, my skin is a bit more tan than hers), and we are of a similar height (she being tall for a human woman, and I being short for a half-elven woman). Our main differences are in the face - her nose is larger than mine, my half-elven ears are much larger than hers, her cheek-bones are stronger and more prominant than mine - and those differences aren't enough to really hurt the resembelance.
Oh well, no matter - if anything, it helps me fit in better, since my looks aren't that unusual.
Once we're ready, guards arrive to take us to the dinner. Once we arrive, the others will go to their tasks - and I will be presented to Arman, the Prime Minister.
I take a deep breath, keep my eyes lowered, and follow the others out of the zenana.
-- Desiree
OOC:
(There was a rumor in Snamish that Desiree didn't know "male members" were ever anything but erect - "because, by the time she gets close enough to see, they always are." Whether this was spread by her admirers or detractors is a separate question.)
Um... this seems an unlikely rumor. Possibly a (bad) joke, but it is unlikely that anyone would take such a belief seriously. As I'm sure everyone here is aware, after a man is finished and goes to sleep... generally the flag comes down, and gets folded up and put away. Metaphorically speaking. I have difficulty imagining any woman who's slept with a man not knowing that.
Oh, and as far as the old doctor goes... eeww. Desiree has no desire to test her skills there. She will if ordered to, but she'd far prefer someone a bit fresher. :p
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Alberich
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Re: Goriel and beyond, part 2
Lord Duravsky's feasting hall was of wood and stone - and was sufficiently modern to have tablecloths and chairs for everyone. (As Desiree's friends would learn, if they made it to Lord Yurkashev's, some of the clans still feasted sitting on the ground.) The hangings were in bright, barbaric colors. Behind the head of the largest table was a niche, with a small stone figure of the god Jurana, adorned with gold and dyed linen. Perhaps two dozen men were present for this meal, some in their daily fur and leather, but most having changed into brightly-colored sashed robes. Some she recognized - Pyotr, Vladimir, Oleg, even Andrei Yurkashev, sitting as a guest. The large, gold-inlaid chair at the head of the table was doubtless Lord Duravsky's own - perhaps made at his order, perhaps a gift inspired by dread or favor. He wasn't yet there. Dina, Valentina, and Anfisa went to their accustomed seats -- by the wall, behind their assigned "lords." (Kept women, even geteroi, did not sit at the table - only men and wives did so, at least at this meal - but the geteroi had small tables of their own to add some dignity to their eating.) Irinia stayed by Desiree for the moment.
In this hall, long weapons were not present, but most of the men kept daggers even at table. Such was their custom.
Before the meal proper began, Irina caught the eye of a middle-aged, thickly-built, rich-robed, dark-bearded fellow near the head of the table. He clapped his hands for silence and received it, though no one rose. This was Grigoriy, the current chamberlain, a childless first cousin to Lord Duravsky himself. Irina then led Desiree up the length of the blockish table, standing to her right so everyone would get a good view, did a low courtesy, and presented Desiree to him formally, asking him to welcome her as a guest to this House.
He nodded, giving her an appreciative appraising look as he did so. "Be welcome, and through you, be welcome the noble Clan Cleiviein." He gestured and called forward both Pyotr Vasilyevich and a strong-looking young warrior named Malyuta Tarasovich.
Most of the guests then turned back to their companions, their conversations, their bowls and goblets - the Prime Minister had not yet arrived, and the true meal had not yet begun, but at this point to stare would be strange. Desiree knew many eyes were on her, with some interest as to the decision that would come next. Before the men arrived, Irina managed a brief whisper - "Not out of line for a starting choice, either one" - but there was no real time for talk before they arrived.
"Pyotr Vasilyevich, Malyuta Tarasovich, a blessed evening to you both" - Grigoriy was not going out of his way to inject extra sincerity into his words, but they all knew the forms and no one minded, "may tonight and every other bring you good health and fortune! His Lordship is delighted, as am I, with your true loyalty and faithful service to your family, as stands a shining example to young men everywhere, and indeed it is most fitting that your steadfastness be recognized in the ways most suitable. Now am I to understand that you have settled between yourselves who shall be honored this evening?"
The two nodded, and Maryuta spoke polite words, with no feeling at all behind them. "Yes, Grigoriy Iokimovich, and I am honored enough beyond my desert by your kind words, so that the most noble Pyotr Vasilyevich shall be the first to enjoy the company of our guest." For this place, that was perfunctory. No doubt Pyotr had won some kind of game or wager, one that didn't involve combat or strength, and Maryuta didn't like the loss one bit. He might as well have said it aloud, but that was not the form here. Grigoriy nodded, and spoke to Desiree. "Then be so good as to accompany this noble lord this evening, and show him the hospitality of your House, as we have shown you ours." There was no more ceremony to it than that. Pyotr stepped to her side, suppressing was would've been a ferocious grin. Taking her by the left hand, he led her to a seat behind his at the table, speaking very few words and none of meaning. After the meal would be time to talk (and more).
If she was paying attention to her surroundings, she'd see that Irinia was paired with Grigoriy himself for tonight, that Grigoriy was compensating Maryuta by moving him to a better seat at the table, and that none of the other geteroi was being changed for tonight. Pyotr was discussing fast horses with his neighbor when the chamberlain called for silence, as His Lordship was about to enter.
[OOC: Pausing because of time; I'll complete the scene later.]
[OOC2: Yes, we know. I ripped the joke off from Edmund Wilson. The idea is to let a few generations pass so they're funny again.]
In this hall, long weapons were not present, but most of the men kept daggers even at table. Such was their custom.
Before the meal proper began, Irina caught the eye of a middle-aged, thickly-built, rich-robed, dark-bearded fellow near the head of the table. He clapped his hands for silence and received it, though no one rose. This was Grigoriy, the current chamberlain, a childless first cousin to Lord Duravsky himself. Irina then led Desiree up the length of the blockish table, standing to her right so everyone would get a good view, did a low courtesy, and presented Desiree to him formally, asking him to welcome her as a guest to this House.
He nodded, giving her an appreciative appraising look as he did so. "Be welcome, and through you, be welcome the noble Clan Cleiviein." He gestured and called forward both Pyotr Vasilyevich and a strong-looking young warrior named Malyuta Tarasovich.
Most of the guests then turned back to their companions, their conversations, their bowls and goblets - the Prime Minister had not yet arrived, and the true meal had not yet begun, but at this point to stare would be strange. Desiree knew many eyes were on her, with some interest as to the decision that would come next. Before the men arrived, Irina managed a brief whisper - "Not out of line for a starting choice, either one" - but there was no real time for talk before they arrived.
"Pyotr Vasilyevich, Malyuta Tarasovich, a blessed evening to you both" - Grigoriy was not going out of his way to inject extra sincerity into his words, but they all knew the forms and no one minded, "may tonight and every other bring you good health and fortune! His Lordship is delighted, as am I, with your true loyalty and faithful service to your family, as stands a shining example to young men everywhere, and indeed it is most fitting that your steadfastness be recognized in the ways most suitable. Now am I to understand that you have settled between yourselves who shall be honored this evening?"
The two nodded, and Maryuta spoke polite words, with no feeling at all behind them. "Yes, Grigoriy Iokimovich, and I am honored enough beyond my desert by your kind words, so that the most noble Pyotr Vasilyevich shall be the first to enjoy the company of our guest." For this place, that was perfunctory. No doubt Pyotr had won some kind of game or wager, one that didn't involve combat or strength, and Maryuta didn't like the loss one bit. He might as well have said it aloud, but that was not the form here. Grigoriy nodded, and spoke to Desiree. "Then be so good as to accompany this noble lord this evening, and show him the hospitality of your House, as we have shown you ours." There was no more ceremony to it than that. Pyotr stepped to her side, suppressing was would've been a ferocious grin. Taking her by the left hand, he led her to a seat behind his at the table, speaking very few words and none of meaning. After the meal would be time to talk (and more).
If she was paying attention to her surroundings, she'd see that Irinia was paired with Grigoriy himself for tonight, that Grigoriy was compensating Maryuta by moving him to a better seat at the table, and that none of the other geteroi was being changed for tonight. Pyotr was discussing fast horses with his neighbor when the chamberlain called for silence, as His Lordship was about to enter.
[OOC: Pausing because of time; I'll complete the scene later.]
[OOC2: Yes, we know. I ripped the joke off from Edmund Wilson. The idea is to let a few generations pass so they're funny again.]
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Drusia
- Veteran of the Errant War
- Posts: 1293
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Re: Goriel and beyond, part 2
"Be welcome, and through you, be welcome the noble Clan Cleiviein." He gestured and called forward both Pyotr Vasilyevich and a strong-looking young warrior named Malyuta Tarasovich.
Pyotr? The man who greeted us at the airship? Yes, it's him, I recognize him. I also remember Boris's comment about him.
"Pyotr, he's chicken-coop slime and everyone knows it. Close enough to Arman's bloodline so no one dares kill him for it. Sending him tells everyone the Prime Minister's interested in you, at least for the moment. ... it says you haven't got extra status either - not like sending the chamberlain or one of his own sons. So you're accepted for the moment. But eyes are on you."
Irina leans over and whispers, "Not out of line for a starting choice, either one." Huh. Did she notice some tell I didn't realize I was giving, or is she simply aware of Pyotr's reputation? No way to tell. Still, I need to be very careful around Irina - either answer shows that she is more than she seems. I suppose she'd have to be, to survive here.
Oh well, at least Malyuta Tarasovich is attractive. Hopefully I'll end up with him.
"Now am I to understand that you have settled between yourselves who shall be honored this evening?"
"Yes, Grigoriy Iokimovich, and I am honored enough beyond my desert by your kind words, so that the most noble Pyotr Vasilyevich shall be the first to enjoy the company of our guest."
Damn.
Grigoriy nodded, and spoke to Desiree. "Then be so good as to accompany this noble lord this evening, and show him the hospitality of your House, as we have shown you ours." Pyotr stepped to her side, suppressing was would've been a ferocious grin. Taking her by the left hand, he led her to a seat behind his at the table, speaking very few words and none of meaning. Pyotr was discussing fast horses with his neighbor when the chamberlain called for silence, as His Lordship was about to enter.
I observe Irina's actions - which, so far, don't seem to be much - and mimic them. No comments are directed at either of us, and table serving seems up to other servants. So arm candy. Or chair candy, anyway.
This both is and isn't what I was expecting. Honestly, I thought a bigger deal would be made of the geteroi - that they would be engaged more. I practiced the lap harp, but no one seems to be playing any music. No one is dancing. It doesn't even look like the others aside from Irina will be servicing anyone tonight.
Maybe things will pick up when Arman arrives? I wait, submissive and politely, to find out.
-- Desiree
[OOC2: I ripped the joke off from Edmund Wilson. The idea is to let a few generations pass so they're funny again.]
OOC: .... ...? **googles Edmund Wilson**
Oh. A literary contempoary of Hemingway, and major magazine editor with a dry and somewhat misogynistic sense of humor. Huh. Well... can't say it isn't approprate. For Goriel.
Just FYI, I think you might have to wait a few more generations....
Pyotr? The man who greeted us at the airship? Yes, it's him, I recognize him. I also remember Boris's comment about him.
"Pyotr, he's chicken-coop slime and everyone knows it. Close enough to Arman's bloodline so no one dares kill him for it. Sending him tells everyone the Prime Minister's interested in you, at least for the moment. ... it says you haven't got extra status either - not like sending the chamberlain or one of his own sons. So you're accepted for the moment. But eyes are on you."
Irina leans over and whispers, "Not out of line for a starting choice, either one." Huh. Did she notice some tell I didn't realize I was giving, or is she simply aware of Pyotr's reputation? No way to tell. Still, I need to be very careful around Irina - either answer shows that she is more than she seems. I suppose she'd have to be, to survive here.
Oh well, at least Malyuta Tarasovich is attractive. Hopefully I'll end up with him.
"Now am I to understand that you have settled between yourselves who shall be honored this evening?"
"Yes, Grigoriy Iokimovich, and I am honored enough beyond my desert by your kind words, so that the most noble Pyotr Vasilyevich shall be the first to enjoy the company of our guest."
Damn.
Grigoriy nodded, and spoke to Desiree. "Then be so good as to accompany this noble lord this evening, and show him the hospitality of your House, as we have shown you ours." Pyotr stepped to her side, suppressing was would've been a ferocious grin. Taking her by the left hand, he led her to a seat behind his at the table, speaking very few words and none of meaning. Pyotr was discussing fast horses with his neighbor when the chamberlain called for silence, as His Lordship was about to enter.
I observe Irina's actions - which, so far, don't seem to be much - and mimic them. No comments are directed at either of us, and table serving seems up to other servants. So arm candy. Or chair candy, anyway.
This both is and isn't what I was expecting. Honestly, I thought a bigger deal would be made of the geteroi - that they would be engaged more. I practiced the lap harp, but no one seems to be playing any music. No one is dancing. It doesn't even look like the others aside from Irina will be servicing anyone tonight.
Maybe things will pick up when Arman arrives? I wait, submissive and politely, to find out.
-- Desiree
[OOC2: I ripped the joke off from Edmund Wilson. The idea is to let a few generations pass so they're funny again.]
OOC: .... ...? **googles Edmund Wilson**
Oh. A literary contempoary of Hemingway, and major magazine editor with a dry and somewhat misogynistic sense of humor. Huh. Well... can't say it isn't approprate. For Goriel.
Just FYI, I think you might have to wait a few more generations....
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Graybeard
- The Heretical Admin
- Posts: 7183
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- Location: Nuevo Mexico y Colorado, Estados Unidos
Re: Goriel and beyond, part 2
[OOC: Glad to see you're enjoying yourselves. 
We do need to move things involving Blaise, but there's no rush, so ... Minor retcon here to deal with something Alberich wrote that I didn't see before.]
"Did he come also by airship? These do not come often."
You might know that better than I, thought Sister Rose. She kept her face neutral with a curt "yes," intending to pursue the question later, but the young woman wasn't done, and now she gave Rose reason to wish she'd been more complete in her answer.
"My lady, when will I meet Lord Blaise, that I may begin to give him pleasure?"
That was bluntly put, wasn't it? Rose thought. She'd gathered by now that the geteroi came in varying degrees of sophistication and subtlety. (Was that too much of a euphemism for an assessment that some were barely more than garden-variety trollops? Maybe, maybe not.) She mentally moved this girl down one notch on her sophistication scale as she framed her answer. "Well, there is a problem. At the moment, we can't find Lord Blaise." Anticipating the puzzlement that this answer would cause, she continued, "My husband sent him here ahead of us, a few days ago, to get arrangements made and start setting up introductions to the people my husband needs to meet with. We received word that he'd arrived and started his work -- and then he just went quiet. He hasn't been heard from since."
Rose was expecting a blank stare while Kirassia processed this very obvious anomaly, but her reaction was nothing of the sort. Her hand flew to her mouth, and her eyes grew wide with alarm. "Oh, my lady! How horrible!" she gasped. "Might something bad have happened to him?"
"We don't know," Rose answered simply, thinking that perhaps she'd underestimated the girl.
"How horrible," Kirassia repeated, her look changing from alarm to deep concern. (Another empath? Rose wondered, inferring the capability from her own talents in that direction. I'll have to be careful with this one.) "My lady, will you permit me to make some inquiries among my fellow geteroi? We -- I guess I would say we have almost a culture of our own, and we -- hear things. Maybe some of them will know what happened to the poor man."
Yep, brighter than I thought, Rose scolded herself. Brighter, and more capable. I should have seen that coming. "Thank you," she replied. "That -- might be a good thing to do. Let me introduce you to the rest of our party. Maybe they can help us search after you make your contacts." She stood up, hoping that Brad, Lillith, Tim and Eli would be nearby.
[OOC: Yes, I know, Alberich talked earlier about Kirassia having a mask that even Rose would find hard to get through. However, I think she'd still be legitimately concerned about the well-being of whatever potentate she was assigned to "service" -- at least until that service ended.]
We do need to move things involving Blaise, but there's no rush, so ... Minor retcon here to deal with something Alberich wrote that I didn't see before.]"Did he come also by airship? These do not come often."
You might know that better than I, thought Sister Rose. She kept her face neutral with a curt "yes," intending to pursue the question later, but the young woman wasn't done, and now she gave Rose reason to wish she'd been more complete in her answer.
"My lady, when will I meet Lord Blaise, that I may begin to give him pleasure?"
That was bluntly put, wasn't it? Rose thought. She'd gathered by now that the geteroi came in varying degrees of sophistication and subtlety. (Was that too much of a euphemism for an assessment that some were barely more than garden-variety trollops? Maybe, maybe not.) She mentally moved this girl down one notch on her sophistication scale as she framed her answer. "Well, there is a problem. At the moment, we can't find Lord Blaise." Anticipating the puzzlement that this answer would cause, she continued, "My husband sent him here ahead of us, a few days ago, to get arrangements made and start setting up introductions to the people my husband needs to meet with. We received word that he'd arrived and started his work -- and then he just went quiet. He hasn't been heard from since."
Rose was expecting a blank stare while Kirassia processed this very obvious anomaly, but her reaction was nothing of the sort. Her hand flew to her mouth, and her eyes grew wide with alarm. "Oh, my lady! How horrible!" she gasped. "Might something bad have happened to him?"
"We don't know," Rose answered simply, thinking that perhaps she'd underestimated the girl.
"How horrible," Kirassia repeated, her look changing from alarm to deep concern. (Another empath? Rose wondered, inferring the capability from her own talents in that direction. I'll have to be careful with this one.) "My lady, will you permit me to make some inquiries among my fellow geteroi? We -- I guess I would say we have almost a culture of our own, and we -- hear things. Maybe some of them will know what happened to the poor man."
Yep, brighter than I thought, Rose scolded herself. Brighter, and more capable. I should have seen that coming. "Thank you," she replied. "That -- might be a good thing to do. Let me introduce you to the rest of our party. Maybe they can help us search after you make your contacts." She stood up, hoping that Brad, Lillith, Tim and Eli would be nearby.
[OOC: Yes, I know, Alberich talked earlier about Kirassia having a mask that even Rose would find hard to get through. However, I think she'd still be legitimately concerned about the well-being of whatever potentate she was assigned to "service" -- at least until that service ended.]
Because old is wise, does good, and above all, kicks ass.