[Kraken]

A dark eyebrow arched at the boldness of the new Queen. Kraken had been detailed in his question; where was his Queen. Pachamama spoke as if he had pledged his allegiance to her and the rest of the court, but in reality Kraken had only given his magic and his sword to one; Mistress Arianna. Kraken. Is all he said in regard to her question. She had asked for his name and that was what she got.

As the others began to make their way to the scene Kraken felt less and less at ease. None of them seemed willing enough to press the new monarch for answers, some hung back and watched while others immediately pledged their loyalty, and these were the fae Kraken lost respect for.

He moved from his defensive stance to a posture that reflected his full height but that was little compensation for the fact he still gripped the shiny bastard sword in his right hand. Kraken seemed unwilling to relinquish his blade even after Pachamama had told him she meant no harm. She did well in explaining her presence and Arianna’s departure but Kraken was not yet convinced she was truly the Queen. It was not a case of whether or not he could best her in a battle, for his sword could run many through, but more a case of truly being a leader. Did she have the magic to crush opposition and replace the idea of rebellion with fear? Was she powerful enough to gain the respect of the age old sidhe? All were questions Kraken considered as he looked up at her, and since no one was willing to ask he took it upon himself to do the deed. ”A new faerie enters and calls herself Queen.” He said, repeating Xiu An’s words, ”Then Queen of the Unseelie caverns, show us, show us why you are Queen.”

This post has been edited by Kraken on Aug 16 2007, 01:08 PM

[Pachamama]

And so, the floodgates opened.

The Queen was heartened by Astyana’s words and curtsie, and rewarded her with a nod, but scarcely had she opened her mouth to provide more positive reinforcement when Xiu An came flouncing in with all the pomp and circumstance of a truly accomplished – and decidedly discourteous – actor. And so, with what could almost be considered an apologetic glance in Astyana’s direction, she closed her lips into a vague smirk once more, and allowed, for the moment, the human’s ridiculous charade.

For a group that seemed reluctant to accept Pachamama’s claim to power, these unseelie were awfully curious – scuttling in like sandcrabs, hiding out just beyond the reach of the waves which threatened to drag them under and yet pained for a single glimpse…Who were these fae, to doubt her right to the throne when they felt so compelled to filter into this room, one after another, just to look at her? It wasn’t that she lacked experience with adversity in times like this: in the Machiavellian world of men, it was almost always necessary to tie and quarter a few select individuals in order to get one’s message across, not to mention ignore the not-so-subtle doubt that was unavoidable in a coup. But these were faerie! They should have known better, and yet Pascha was disinclined to make an example of any of them, for the kinship they all shared. Until now, the Queen had tolerated their disrespect under those pretenses, but needless to say her patience was wearing thin; and the combination of Xiu An’s thinly-veiled mockery and Kraken’s parroting were quite enough to banish it altogether.

Oh, Arianna, these are not sheep you have left me! They are poorly trained puppies, grown restless and defiant in their neglect…

In the animal kingdom, presumptuous youths were taught respect by leaders who denied them food, drove them from the herd, or dominated them physically until they acquiesced. This abuse, and the capitulation toward which it was aimed, were far from malicious in intent – such instinctual divisions of power and ownership were evolutionary adaptations, adopted by every living thing in order to preserve order, efficiency, and the common good. Though the faerie were in many ways above nature, they were also a part of it, and Kraken’s reproachful demands were a perfect example of its constant influence – for, in treating her so tactlessly, the dark warrior left Pachamama no choice but to employ those tactics which nature had taught her, as Arianna had been forced to, before.

Pascha’s stare hovered over Xiu An as he bowed and chattered, but she returned neither his smile nor his stoniness. His apathy was as carefully noted as his mockery, much to his discredit, and as if with equal disinterest, her gaze remained on him only long enough for Kraken’s repetition to begin. Without turning her head from the garlanger, her eyes shifted beyond him to the wielder of the bastard sword, before closing altogether. The Queen heaved a heavy, exaggerated sigh.

“If you insist.”

Then, without her having moved a muscle, those immaculate rose vines exploded from the wall directly behind the indiscreet nimbus, entwining themselves tightly, painfully, from his ankles to his waist, their thorny stems almost wrist-thick; and after relieving him of his weapon with a jerk, they secured his muscled arms as well. Pascha drummed the jade throne with her perfect, black-lacquered nails, allowing Kraken a few seconds to contemplate his position, before standing up gracefully and sidestepping the human before her. As she passed Xiu An, she paused for only a moment, and, standing in line with him, bent her lips toward his ear:

“Au contraire, Xiu An of the Calcinaze Kith; I call myself, “my self”. It is you who call me Queen.”

In only a few languid strides she was standing face-to-face with the Goliath Kraken who, although he bested her in height by half a foot, could obviously not compete with her panache. Smiling sweetly, she placed the tip of her right index finger upon his chest, and immediately the breath fled from him, as if an opposing magnet to her flesh. No doubt he was becoming decidedly light headed as she said to him, in a comfortable speaking tone:

“I wonder, Kraken, how it is that you didn’t learn your lesson the first time you made such a request. There are ways to observe a person’s ability to lead besides requiring a demonstration – many, if not all of which would be far less hazardous to your health. I am more annoyed that you have left me no choice but to treat you so roughly, than at your obvious lack of faith…but do not think that leaves me any less reason to consider you rash beyond description. I suggest you learn some diplomacy before addressing me again.” Upon finishing this soliloquy she removed her finger, releasing that man from her magic and her wrath, and began to walk away. The roses, however, remained about him loosely, promising to constrict him once again should he make for the sword lying some several feet away. Pascha was not about to turn her back on a man armed both with steel and spite.

All this accomplished, she addressed the company at large.

“Unseelie, why must we perform this age-old dance of power and proof? Why must I force a yoke upon you, when all I wish is your respect? I am not a usurper, and obviously I have some claim to the Darkling Throne, or those lovely blooms you see about you would not be so willing to follow my commands. Why must our first meeting be so dreary? Why must you cower, and hide in the shadows-”

Here her glance grazed Syraelia, and a rose stem gently poked her in the shoulder, as if in tag,

“Why can’t we remake tradition? This is not how I wish to meet all of your acquaintance. Force isn’t really my style. Instead, I would like to celebrate this change in all our lives. Tomorrow night, in this very room, I will host a grand and sumptuous ball, the likes of which Alanor has never seen before. It will be the first of many, and in our revelry we will be the envy of the Seelie, who shall be thought far more sad and darkling than ourselves. Every one of you is invited.”

These last words were pointed in Kraken’s direction, as the rose vines at last slid from his limbs, and delicately returned his sword.


[asphyxiation lvl 1, plus super duper rose power lolz. SORRY ITS SOOO LOOONG!]

This post has been edited by Pachamama on Aug 16 2007, 03:21 PM

[Kraken]

(4th character of mine to get caught in the roses, 5th if you could them slapping Azruen.)

Arianna’s show of power paled in comparison to this one, he thought as the roses ensnared him and the oxygen fled from his lungs as if driven away by some unseen force. Kraken would have stumbled back had the roses not had him but aside from the initial shock of the magic he showed no sign of pain or even mild discomfort. When it came to pain Kraken was an iron horse; it took more than a few razor-sharp thorns in his side to make him flinch.

His gaze never left the Queen’s as she spoke, his face totally neutral. It was this showing of power Kraken respected, magic that was physical, magic that was tangible, it was real magic. The dark one had been frightened and somewhat angered by the fact that Arianna’s magic had allowed her to manipulate his mind. No sword or bow could defend against that kind of magic but this was magic he could live with. He damn near smiled as the magic and the vines fell away giving him almost total freedom.

He drew in one long breath. Staying quiet now would only make him seem weak but he knew he couldn’t blurt the first thing that came to his mind, he had to choose his words carefully. ”Finally…” He said weakly as it seemed the first breath wasn’t enough to fill his lungs. ”Arianna was my queen, the Queen of Love and Fear. But NEVER was she the Queen of the Unseelie. I asked her for a showing of power to prove that she was the rightful ruler of this place and she never showed me that. I followed her due to her power, never loyalty to this court. I have never considered myself an Unseelie fae for I never followed, what I felt, was an Unseelie queen. His cold and emotionless eyes closed and he slowly lowered himself to one knee being careful not to startle the roses. ”The roses obey you. Queen Pachamama, I offer you and this court, my sword, if you will have it.” And he left it at that, still deeply bowed with his eyes closed his bald cranium tilted towards her.

This post has been edited by Kraken on Aug 16 2007, 03:55 PM

[Syraelia]

Her eyes followed intently the every action of those before her. The stone wall pressed to her back let her know that she had the full view of what would play out before her. Comforting, though she didn't require such comfort. The queen had stated what it seemed only one or two others had noticed, the court laid out before her was considerably poor mannered and paranoid. So wound up they were, and unable to trust the kiss of power which had swept the room twice over since she'd entered. A promise of things to come.

And come they did. The most defiant had been snared in a nest of roses, the act making Syraelia's breath stop in her throat. Or perhaps that was the wild magic being released onto the more arrogant tongued ones. It was... unusual to say the least. For 300 years she'd been convinced that she was a goddess of death, a reaper of souls on commission, because she simply couldn't explain it otherwise. Her ties to any sort of magic had been nonexistant, it simply wasn't a popular or well conceived concept in her homelands. Stepping into Alanor had been quite an eye-opening experience to say the least. It was all still a little unnerving.

Words, directed at her perhaps? She'd been spotted. A small smile formed over one half of her lips as she uncrossed her arms. Just in time to react to the not-so-subtle poke of the vine which had snuck up behind her. Naturally, it was severed before she even took a breath, and she was left looking down in confusion. Hopefully that wasn't of any particular importance and would regrow, not that it was her fault really, when caught off guard her instincts told her to attack. Surely this queen would understand? Nevertheless, she coughed uncomfortably, hiding a small blade in the ebony void of robe which covered her figure head to toe.

Was she supposed to go up and offer her blade, loyalty, services, or the like? This was a strange, strange place. This wasn't like anywhere she'd ever been, then again, it was probably a lot more reasonable to expect your followers to personally pledge themselves to you if they were only a dozen compared to millions. Well, she was in no hurry. Cowering wasn't her thing, but observing was. However, having just attacked the poking little roses, she felt obligated to make up for that little slight.

Stepping forward, she glanced around twice, considering her words before she spoke them. "You appear worthy of this worship, and as I have come into your lands seeking home I offer my... services in return. I accept you as my queen." Now, really, this was probably not what Pachamama was expecting. For it seemed more as if Syraelia had accepted her presence than the other way around which would have better suited the situation. Oblivious to this, the dark fae did a slight bow at the waist before backing up to a more observant point in the room.