Those Who Walk With Death
Log Info
- Title: Those Who Walk With Death
- Place: Shining Chalice Observatory
- Summary: While in the observatory, a butler, a rogue, and a cleric discover that death may be the one thing that connects the three of them, though the realization is not particularly comfortable.
The Shining Chalice Observatory. A beautifully grand structure to stare into the heavenly hosts. The bronze and iron subdued ever so properly and emblazoned with signs of the Gods and the emblems of their temples. A grand telescope to observe the cosmic bodies orbiting the world.
And this happens to be Jacob's first time inside.
"Wow....this place is magnificent." He smiles, the wonder of a child in his eyes as he observes the grand structures. Robes of grey, red, and gold adorn in his person, enshrouded by a black hooded cloak.
"I wonder if I could get that thing to work..." He's no engineer, and he's willing to break things to operate it.
...absolutely.
At the moment that Jacob is pondering the observatory and if it could be within his skillset to get it working, another voice can be heard. "This way?" Rune's soft tones are clearly speaking to someone, likely one of the organization's members. "Just need to drop off some scrolls." The voice explains, followed by the sound of footsteps approaching the observatory.
As she steps in, there is a momentary look of surprise that flashes across the Half-sil's face as she realizes quite quickly that she is not alone in the observatory. The girl has an arm full of scrolls which she has to hastily adjust her grip on. "Oh. I didn't realize anyone else would be up here."
She takes in his appearance, remembering those heterochromatic eyes that she found quite so striking the last time the two had met. "Jacob, right?" Rune asks. Then, she hefts the collection of scrolls and starts heading towards Orrery. "Returning these. One of the astrologans was too lazy to bring them back, himself." She rolls her eyes indulgently.
There is, however, a slight pause as she passes under that sign of Eluna. It might almost be read as a sign of fear, but it's hard to tell. Rune does steel herself quickly to get the scrolls put away.
A sound reaches his ears.
He turns where he stands to see a half-sil, lovely in stature and in demeanor, whom he has met a handful of times. The last time he had seen this woman, they were in a bar brawl with the unrestful spirits who had decided to haunt a poor man's establishment. Jacob's eyes drinks in the appearance of the woman, a brilliant smile coming to his face as the corners of his lips rise upwards into a smile.
"That's me." His voice rumbles softly as he starts to approach her, tilting his head at her. "Rune, yes? I could never forget." He chuckles softly. "Oh? Well, sounds like a fun job. I didn't paint you as a messenger." Must be considering her badass capability in a fight.
Most terrifying messenger ever.
He does notice that hesitation at the sign of Eluna. "Perhaps I can accompany you?"
"I'm not sure if it's a good or bad thing that I made an impression." Her voice carries a hint of amusement in it. "Normally it's better for someone like me to stay unnoticed." Still, she lifts one shoulder in a half shrug, as if not entirely concerned about the matter.
One dark brow lifts, her lip quirking at the same time, "Oh? Did you think that I make all my coin off of bar brawls with ghosts?" That amusement lingers as she shakes her head, "A girl has to have some more legitimate ways of making money. Besides, I spent half of my life with my nose in books and scrolls, so I should know a thing or two about keeping them safe."
The fact that Jacob catches that hesitation has a bit of a rueful expression finding her features. Rune doesn't explain it, however, but she does nod. "If you want. Nothing exactly fascinating about it, though." That's when she gives her own curious look at him, "So... what are you doing up here anyways? From what Telamon and Lana have told me, it's usually those gifted with arcane magics that hang around this place."
"I would say it's a good thing. Those who keep to the shadows often shine the brightest when brought to the light." Jacob clears his throat. "Or at least, that's what I think about it anyway." He looks away, as if wondering if that was something normal to say. He doesn't appear to be....well, the /best/ at social skills.
Maybe it's part of his charm?
"...yes?" Well, at least he's honest. "Though I figured you more a mercenary or purely an adventurer as your source of coin." He seems to have amused her though, not a terrible thing to happen! "Agreed. Seems you grew up far more knowledgeable than I. My childhood was spent on the back of a horse, riding through the planes and moving from place to place." The nomadic lifestyle of the Phurai Dae was common knowledge.
"I do want." He confirms with a friendly smile. "Honestly? I've heard greatly of the place and wanted to see it for myself. I've always been gifted in the divine magics, but the arcane has ever been the greatest mystery to me. It's like..." he tries to think. "Like a language you have no hope of interpreting, but you try it anyway." He looks at her as they walk. "Does that make sense?"
"That's... one way of looking at it." Rune seems to consider those words, and she inclines her head slightly. "Though in contrast, those in the shadows also have an easier time of falling into the dark. It's easy to take certain skills and become a cutpurse or pickpocket or assassin. Not really where I'd like to find myself."
As if an example of her scholarly upbringing, Rune only pauses a moment to look over the shelves before starting to put the scrolls away, each one carefully put back into the proper place. "My father was a keeper of knowledge. Some Sildanyari are fascinated by the passage of time. So he was obsessed with histories and the changes they brought to the world." She smirks, "He wanted me to follow in his footsteps but... as you have already seen, it isn't really my style."
She seems to pause in putting the scrolls away to look back at Jacob, obviously intrigued by his story. "Honestly, I think living as a nomad sounds fascinating. Always seeing new places, experiencing new things. Every day an adventure." It's likely a rose-tint of that lifestyle, from someone who is looking from the outside in.
With a laugh, she taps at the scroll in her hand, "I'm pretty good with languages, even ones I don't know that well, but... I get what you mean. I... don't have a lick of magic in me, at least not that I've seen." She motions towards him, "Divine magics? They're pretty amazing to me."
"A contrast I appreciate. Though I fail to sympathize properly. I have two left feet, if you would believe me. Can't much sneak or dance." Well, he can /dance/ at the very least, but Jacob just can't do it /well/. "Though you do have the talent to become all three. I suppose I should give thanks to Serriel that you are not - from my point of view - a creature of shadows...at least not in a negative way."
Even if she is practically one with the darkness. Yet, as she pauses to put the scrolls away, Jacob listens closely to the tales that she speaks of her father. "A lorekeeper? I must say I've little knowledge of the Sildanyari besides the basic coverings. It must have been fascinating all the same. You live for so long...I wonder what it's like. I fear I'll barely break a 100 years by the time I'm called to the realm of the Horse Lords." He smirks.
"The nomadic life is...honestly? A dream. We lived well. Quick to laugh, quick to anger, living in freedom of the chaos of the Vast. I miss it, at times. My father was a great warrior. No warrior had ever managed to unseat him. I'm...uncertain if that's still the case." He chuckles meekly. "I followed in his footsteps but...He wished for me to stay with the tribe, while I sought a greater purpose."
He clears his throat. "I hope I don't sound selfish." Though the interest of the divine magic he's able to cast makes him smile. "It's a gift from Serriel. I maintain membership of the priesthood, though I'm sure I've irritated more than a few of the temple." he smirks. "Then I'm lucky to be able to cast it, if to impress you." He smirks.
Is he...flirting?
"I think we all have a bit of magic in us...but few ever learn how to wield it."
For the moment, Rune and Jacob are walking thorugh the observatory, seemingly just enjoying each other's company.
Sloan wasn't really prowling the halways of the chalice, though it may seem that way. Dressed in Clean, black linen pants, and a Crisp white tunic of the same material, the butler to the shining chalice is seeing to his duties. Feet clad in impeccably clean Dress boots, he makes his way with a surprising stealth towards the Chalice's newest guest, Black linen gloved hands folded behind his back and a polite smile on his face as he makes himself as unobtrusive as possible.
"A talent for punching drunks." Her laugh as a slightly musical tone to it, but Rune still shakes her head softly. "Not exactly something that takes a lot of skill, but I appreciate the compliment." Hesitating one hand on a scroll, Rune's lips lightly press together. "I'm only half-sil. My father will likely outlive me, and with my luck, so you will." There's something in her eyes at that statement, something haunting in that gaze.
She looks over Jacob's shoulder, perhaps having heard Sloan's approach. The girl raises a hand in greeting to him. "If you want to talk about a talent for punching drunks, I think Sloan had me beat." That haunted look vanishes with a smile to the beat-em-up butler.
Then, looking back to Jacob, she chuckles, "The only thing I know how to wield is my knives, but, who knows." Rune motions her head towards that symbol of Eluna in the observatory, "We'll see what the future holds."
"Anyone can punch a drunk. But punchign a drunk with /style/ as you manage to? Well, it's something to behold." Jacob lets his throat rumble with the sound of a chuckle. "You do it better than I." Though he hears her words on her father being Silvanyari, but she's only a half-sil. "I would hate for that." Jacob offers to Rune. "It would be of greater priority that you lived longer than you expect and enjoyed every second of it." Jacob smirks ever so softly at her. "Besides, I'm only human. I hear we don't live long anyway."
He grins cheekily.
But he turns his attention over his shoulder once Rune points out Sloan. "Oh, I remember you." He smiles big and wide. "You, sir, are a masterclass in how to win a bar brawl." He chuckles in amusement. "And good with your words all at the same time. Rare for it to be both."
He turns his eyes back to her. "There's always a chance." He grins. "I don't doubt your impressive skill with your knives." He chuckles. Though he notices her look again towards the symbol of Eluna.
"...May I ask?"
Then to Sloan. "How are you, my friend?"
Clearing his throat as the polite smile continues, Sloan offers a stiff, formal half bow as he speaks. "Yes, well, one has not always served the upper class. The truth be told, I have not been a stranger to the occasional dust up in my past." Watching the pair of them for a moment, he adds. "If the master and mistress would prefer some solitude for their discussions, I am happy to provide it, I just came to see if there is anything either of you need. Tea, Water, Coffee, or something of a more robust vintage may be acquired. If you have preference for food, the cook is next door and is happy to prepare something. As for your inquiry as to my state of being? I am well Master Jacob, and I hope the evening finds you the same?"
"Trust me, I'll probably give you a run for your money." Rune replies, her expression rueful. Even if she doesn't say it outright, it's obvious that the half-sil has had a few brushes with death. Enough so that she may not be quite so comfortable with her own mortality. "But, I'm sure it doesn't hurt to have more friends with the divine grace of the gods."
With that, Rune puts away the last of the scrolls, then claps her hands together as if getting rid of invisible dust. The place is immaculately kept, perhaps due to Sloan's intervention. "I wouldn't want to impose at all. I was here on business, anyways." She explains, offering him a smile. "And you /can/ just call me Rune. I'm not nearly noble enough to be anyone's mistress."
As Jacob asks about her reaction to the symbol, Rune lifts a hand and runs it through her tinted hair. "The goddess and I have a bit of a history. Let's just say I'm still breathing at the behest of the Dreaming Goddess, or at least that of one of her followers. I don't really know the specifics."
The 'master' part of Sloan's words makes Jacob's eyes widen a bit. "Hah, I'm master of no one, my friend. Please, just Jacob is acceptable." he's clearly not used to being conversed with /so politely/. "Like Rune here-" he gestures to the lady. "I'm of no noble birth. Just a humble plainsman." Jacob downsells himself willingly, humility in every word. "I'm glad you're well my friend. You're welcome to join us."
He turns his attention to Rune. "I've had my fair share of brushes with death, too. I'm fairly certain you'll outlive me with the number of mistakes I make in a battle." His luck lately hasn't been /great/. "It doesn't. Especially ones with excellent social skills."
A joke, surely.
The conversation of Eluna makes him nod softly. "I see. Well then, should count yourself lucky to still be amongst the living." He takes a look at her blue-tinted hair. "Is that what caused your hair to be dyed so? Or was that more your preference?"
Still that smile continues on Sloan's face, hands still folded behind his back as he listens to the pair. "Of course Mistress Rune, in this place though, you are a guest and one would not know the end of shame were it to be said that the Shining Chalice's hospitality was found wanting."
Listening to the pair, the butler shifts slightly. Stepping quietly to the door he speaks softly with a servant in the hallway for a moment before returning once more. "Though I am aware that it is not my place to do so. Might I offer an observation that may offer solace to you both? Also I have sent for tea, coffee, and an assortment of aperatifs. I shall be taking my meal shortly and would invite you to join me."
For now, Rune seems to choose not to argue over which of the two have the closest brushes with death. She simply gives an incline of her head and a lift of one shoulder. "This?" She blows a bit of the tinted hair out of her eyes. "Preference. Call it a quiet rebellion against the more proper Sildanyari ways." Since he had asked, she gives a question in turn, "What about you? Is it the injury that changed your eye or were you born with them different?"
When Sloan steps towards the door and moves to speak, Rune can't help but follow him with her eyes, her brows knitted curiously. "You're... always welcome to speak, Sloan. And... I'm not fool enough to turn down an offer for food twice. Thank you." She pauses, and then asks, "What did you do before you became a butler for the Shining Chalice? You said you had experience with fisticuffs?"
Still with Mistress and Master for titles.
Jacob doesn't have the heart to correct Sloan this time around. And honestly? The offer of food and drink helps. "Well...It would be rude of me to deny you a service. Very well." He turns his attention to Rune at that, apparently also happy not to argue how many times either have done what warriors do: face death and survive.
He does smile about her hair. "It looks good on you." He compliments her and the question she offers in return gets a shrug. "Born with it. My parents thought it a blessing. Some think it a strange curse. I'm not sure how I feel about it." Heterochromatic eyes glisten in the light for a moment. "But, well, we all have our quirks." He chuckles. He turns to Sloan.
"I had the same question. It seems...interesting that one of your profession is so skilled in more...rough matters of handling business."
Moving to a table, Sloan motions to the other 2 to join him. Waiting for them to sit before he does, or remaining standing if they should decide to. "To answer your question Mistress Rune, and yours Master Jacob. And you must forgive me the formality...it is my way when I am in service...Before this, I was Valet to the young Lord Halston. Before that, I was something else. I was the man that the neighbors called when the bar fights got out of hand. I was the man that the neighbors came to when maybe the blacksmith had gotten a little too rough with his wife after a night of drinking. to be short, I was that dark voice behind you in the alley at night that said "Hello Jim...You did a terrible thing the other night when you thought no one was around, and there is a price to be paid for it." Pausing for a moment, Sloan considers the pair before continuing. "To be short, I guess you could call me a conscience."
Looking from one to the other, the butler adds. "As a conscience. I walked many nights in shadows, and I became well aquainted with Death. You are both, I am sure, known to Death as well, but I have come to consider her a friend. I've sat with old men in their last moments...I have summoned her with my own hands more than once. My advice to you both, do not worry about who will meet their final moments first. Enjoy the ones you have, and look forward to meeting your loved ones on the other side...It makes life simpler in the end."
For all of her self-assured demeanor, there is a hint of shyness that appears as Rune lightly tucks a few strands of blue-tipped hair back behind one pointed ear. "People are apt to call anything they don't understand a 'curse'. It's just something that makes you... you." Rune replies.
However, it is Sloan who seems to shake her with his words. It isn't the role that he had played in his life before this one. No, it seems far more to be his ease with Death. It's subtle, a slight shift of her body-weight and the shift of one hand over her tattooed forearm. She is smoothing down goose-bumps. "It's... not always as simple as that, Sloan."
She looks between the two momentarily, that same haunted expression lingering in her eyes that had briefly been visible before. "I... should go. Maybe... we can do that meal another time." Her voice is halting, perhaps slightly uncertain. "I need some air." It's a common excuse, and one Sloan had heard from her once before.
As she turns to leave, she gives one glance back, "It was... nice talking to you Jacob." Then there is a pause before she nods to Sloan as well, "Sloan." She seems almost as if she might say something, perhaps appologize, but instead she pulls up the cowl of her cloak and heads into the hallway.
Sloan had an interesting perspective.
He was a man who knew how to use his hands. Who knew the comfort that death could provide and used it to provide that same comfot to others at their last moments, or at the very least, offered it to those who needed a good ass-kicking. It wasn't always good work...but it needed to be done. "I understand. Or at least, as far as I can understand. You seem a deeply complex man, Sloan."
He lowers his gaze. "I believe I would do well with your advice."
He turns his eyes to Rune, smiling as his gaze shifts. "Yeah." About the curse, though he sees the tip of her pointed ear, marking her elven lineage and he smiles ever so warmly, ever so softly.
But then she's announcing her departure. "Take care of yourself, Rune. I...would like to speak with you again soon."
Nodding to Rune as she departs, Sloan calls after her, hi voice polite though it carries through the observatory. "At your leisure Mistress Rune, I would invite you to return." Nodding to the serving girl as she arrives, the butler nods. "Thank you Molly."
The serving girl leaves a tray of coffee, tea and assorted small sandwiches on the table and makes a retreat. Sloan finally takes a seat and relaxes slightly. Looking out the window at the moon, he smiles and relaxes. "As I am now on my dinner break, I will endeavour to forego formalities...Jacob." Pouring himself a coffee, the butler shrugs his houlders, emitting a couple of pops from his back. "I am not a man of great complexity. I am a man that knows he would...please forgive the vernacular...Be a bastard of a villain were I to allow myself to be. Instead, I find joy in small things. I serve others, and I find guidance, as you yourself do, in the light of the Guiding star."
Offering the coffee pot to Jacob, Sloan offers a wan smile. "Do you take sugar?"
Jacob watches Rune leave, for a time, a small smile touching his features before he remembers himself. Clearing his throat, he turns his eyes to the servng girl who leaves the tray of drinks and snacks. "Thank you." He thanks the serving girl before she leaves, looking at Sloan. "That would be my wish." That he lower the formalities and speak as he normally is. Rather than 'Master Jacob' or 'Master Ben-Hassid'.
Just 'Jacob' will do for this.
"And yet even the most simple of men can be the most challenging to understand." Jacob remarks then with a soft smile. Finding joy in the small things is one of the truly good things in the world, in my humble opinion." Yet Sloan reveals himself as a follower of Serriel and it makes Jacob smile.
"Then we are brothers in that way." Jacob declares happily. "Oh, I do, thank you." He offers the man his cup.
Offering the Sugar as well, Sloan chuckles. "Indeed. we do share a kinship in faith." Taking his own coffee black, Sloan takes a quiet mouthful and closes his eyes for a moment. "It is none of my business, but I believe you are smitten by Rune. She is intelligent and a rather handsome woman. You would do well." after a moments further pause, he adds. "Though her abrupt departure is part of the reason One tends to keep up with formalities. It has been remarked in the past that I can be a little... off-putting in my intensity otherwise."
Drink poured, Jacob brings the drink back to himself and takes a happy sip. "Ah, that's a perfect blend. Thank you, Sloan." He smiles softly, before - as he's taking another sip - Sloan's comment causes Jacob to choke on it a bit. Once he's done burning his throat with freshly made coffee, he looks at Sloan with wide eyes.
"W-well, she is beautiful. I'm afraid I've only just met her. I'm still learning. But...she's unique. Different."
He clears his throat once more, smacking his chest with a fist. "I doubt it had anything truly to do with you, my friend. Some scars run deep." And together, Sloan and Jacob talk for quite some time.