07-16-2015, 04:02 AM
drink the poision lightly
there are deeper and darker things than you
Russet tipped gold ears turn, bow and bend and flicker forward, absorbing the information like a thick, obedient sponge. I am quiet, though lesser I am not. I listen and give way to each for their turn, my eyes falling upon Michaelis to try and depict his answer, try and see where he is swayed to venture. Be it the Dale, the Valley or the Chamber. I have not ventured to those pats of Beqanna yet, but but the way they are painted, they sound as equal opportunity for the shadowy prince , as much as the Chamber was.
Aletheia spins a fine tale; she is seeming to finely weave some cotton threads into enticing silk, even I had to acknowledge that the Valley sounded appeasing. But in a quiet lull that Beqanna had been seeing to, each kingdom was seeming to have a few hidden dust bunnies among them. I listen then to Ramiel. It does not slip under my radar, how he watches Aletheia with more than a simple diplomatic stare. Something, something lurks between not necessarily those two but further down the line in history. I know those gazes, had felt them etch upon my gilded skin. Many, many years ago now. I flick an idle plume against my hocks, gliding over my tender flanks before offering my own honey dripped poison.
'The Chamber has scars, like many of us all. Those scars are healing with every new resident that graces her grounds. The Chamber gives back whatever that is put in, and you will find that amongst the pines there is a homeliness that many have yet to find.' perhaps I weave a little too personal a tale, a touch of autobiography never went a miss. My sapphire gems find each of them, hold their gaze for a moment longer before turning back to Michaelis. 'We our but a seed, for now, a little sapling growing into what will be a force to be reckoned with. The Chamber offers growth in a way that would suit you in either direction. Our ranks are open for those that press forward, and you Sir Michaelis, you seem like you could do a job, and do it well.' First impressions are judged alone on the eyes, then the posture. I notice his eyes, pick through the shadows with tentative fingers, there is something there, a purpose concealed behind curtains of shadow. A debonair smirk slips my lips. 'Like the Dale, like the Valley, the Chamber is in need of loyal members, those that are willing to put in what they will assuredly get out of the kingdom. Like most at this time, Beqanna has woven a sort of magic within the borders and with it lies a promise. Our Queen, Straia, she has plans, plans in which will not slip my lips. You cannot simply show your hand now, can you?' my lashes flutter, a crooked little smile softens the debonair smirk and my black magic words settle in the air.
'Of course, Sir Michaelis, the choice lies with you. Will you tread the path to the Chamber, the Dale or indeed, the Valley?' I cast my gaze to each representative before falling back upon the shadowy prince, my eyes alive with a blue flame, twinkling, wavering against the eerie pitch of the shadows.
Aletheia spins a fine tale; she is seeming to finely weave some cotton threads into enticing silk, even I had to acknowledge that the Valley sounded appeasing. But in a quiet lull that Beqanna had been seeing to, each kingdom was seeming to have a few hidden dust bunnies among them. I listen then to Ramiel. It does not slip under my radar, how he watches Aletheia with more than a simple diplomatic stare. Something, something lurks between not necessarily those two but further down the line in history. I know those gazes, had felt them etch upon my gilded skin. Many, many years ago now. I flick an idle plume against my hocks, gliding over my tender flanks before offering my own honey dripped poison.
'The Chamber has scars, like many of us all. Those scars are healing with every new resident that graces her grounds. The Chamber gives back whatever that is put in, and you will find that amongst the pines there is a homeliness that many have yet to find.' perhaps I weave a little too personal a tale, a touch of autobiography never went a miss. My sapphire gems find each of them, hold their gaze for a moment longer before turning back to Michaelis. 'We our but a seed, for now, a little sapling growing into what will be a force to be reckoned with. The Chamber offers growth in a way that would suit you in either direction. Our ranks are open for those that press forward, and you Sir Michaelis, you seem like you could do a job, and do it well.' First impressions are judged alone on the eyes, then the posture. I notice his eyes, pick through the shadows with tentative fingers, there is something there, a purpose concealed behind curtains of shadow. A debonair smirk slips my lips. 'Like the Dale, like the Valley, the Chamber is in need of loyal members, those that are willing to put in what they will assuredly get out of the kingdom. Like most at this time, Beqanna has woven a sort of magic within the borders and with it lies a promise. Our Queen, Straia, she has plans, plans in which will not slip my lips. You cannot simply show your hand now, can you?' my lashes flutter, a crooked little smile softens the debonair smirk and my black magic words settle in the air.
'Of course, Sir Michaelis, the choice lies with you. Will you tread the path to the Chamber, the Dale or indeed, the Valley?' I cast my gaze to each representative before falling back upon the shadowy prince, my eyes alive with a blue flame, twinkling, wavering against the eerie pitch of the shadows.
engelsfors
professor of the chamber