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Pawns in the game - Printable Version +- The First Age (https://thefirstage.org/forums) +-- Forum: Moscow (https://thefirstage.org/forums/forum-1.html) +--- Forum: Moscow Nightlife (https://thefirstage.org/forums/forum-15.html) +--- Thread: Pawns in the game (/thread-558.html) |
- Jaxen Marveet - 07-12-2016 Cont from: http://w11.zetaboards.com/TheFirstAge/topic/11681524/3/#new Jaxen waved goodbye to Aria. "Scary chick isn't she?" He turned to Manix and eyed him up and down. "You won't get into Manifesto in those clothes. Not even at this time of day. Hell they may even turn me away and I'm wearing a six thousand dollar pair of shoes. Kallisiti House of Burlesque is nearby." He thought for a moment, dark eyes sparkling with mischief over memories of his last encounter there. Would Oriena be there? He'd not thought about her in a while. What with being busy with kidnapping and snake people and learning how to be an Ancient and dodging Atharim teenagers. But admittedly, he hoped to run into the club's elusive owner. Oriena was magnificent as far as women went. Which was saying a lot from Jaxen. He showed Manix the way. His question struck Jaxen with an amused grin. "You're certainly the master. I sense what you can do. Sense your strength. I am nothing compared to you. A pawn in your game." Jaxen's silver tongue was always quick to charm. So smooth, it was impossible to tell if the flattery was fake at all. ((Ooc: description of Kallisti found here. http://w11.zetaboards.com/TheFirstAge/single/?p=8200579&t=9085018)) Edited by Jaxen Marveet, Jul 12 2016, 04:04 PM. - Manix - 07-16-2016 (((OCC)) Been sick will post soon - Manix - 07-18-2016 Manix thought about the word "Master", it didn't feel right. After all it was his family Deity, Manannan Mac Lir, that gifted and guided his power. Looking to Jax: I'm no master, I have a guide, I simply listen to the wind and follow the flows of the threads. It is like weaving strong sail or tieing a master knot. Pausing for a deep breath: Ye be the first I have talked to that is like me, I don't know if we can benefit each other or not, but I figured on talking to ye first. I have a theory, I can't get Aria to listen or help, maybe ye can? I be guessing ye want a favor in return, what say ye? - Jaxen Marveet - 07-19-2016 ((Hope you're feeling better. Don't worry about not posting. I'm not exactly known for punctuality. hah)) Jaxen had to listen close to decipher the undulations of Manix's accent. Coupled with the old timey vernacular, Jaxen was close to struggling. But that was half the fun. An ornery streak of his own was stirring, but he held his tongue in check. For now. Jaxen was the first ancient other than himself that Manix had encountered. Jaxen understood the inevitible confusion that accompanied such a discovery. But he wanted something? Maybe he shouldn't have bragged about the cost of his shoes. He glanced at the panda skinned loafers. They were freaking awesome. That couldn't be it. "Not too surprised that Aria won't hold still long enough. What's your theory? You tell me what you want and I will tell you if I can help. We will go from there." - Oriena - 07-21-2016 The night was young, Kallisti's doors freshly opened to patrons wishing to sink into its welcome embrace. There was no entertainment this early, just a low cadence of music and the beautiful servers weaving in and out of the tables. Soft lighting mimicked dusk, splashed with warm and decadent colour, and the air was comfortably warm. The vodka flowed, clear as diamond, clinking ice in crystal glasses. There were many new faces. Since Claire's arrival and Ori's sly epiphany, she had begun collecting in earnest. In her own caustic way she nurtured their abilities, much as Cara had once done for her, but she did not regulate how they chose to use their gifts - within her premises, or beyond them. In that careful way she built, not an army loyal to her, but one wedded to the conceit of themselves as godlings. So far it had added to the club's exotic mystique, and injected a darker current into the rumours that surrounded its reputation. Neither of which Ori minded. Tonight she meant only to check in on her acquisition before she slipped out into the night and the revelry to be found after the day's revelations. The afternoon's pursuits had been interesting; already angry protesters clustered about the city, demanding askance, and a massive crowd had swollen in the Red Square. But it was the Underground Ori had retreated to; its forgotten citizens, misfits and exiles, thrilled with the news, with mixed results. Sweet and poison whispers in the right ears gently encouraged the chaos. Her networks buzzed, and she left them quivering on the edge of revolt. Upstairs Kasun slept in a nest of clothes, tight behind a locked door. An accusing gold eye had flickered at her entry, but he did not move. Gouges rent the back of the door, and some of the furniture toppled at the edges of the room. But he'd eaten the food she had left. Back in the warm glow of the club it was only whim that detoured her steps from the exit. A smirk lifted her lips. To those who knew her best, that smile was a riptide, eager to devour those hapless souls caught in its current. For those less informed it was all charm and playfulness. The smile of a seductress. She sat without asking or introducing herself. Or caring if and what she interrupted. It wasn't her habit to seek out old conquests, no matter how pleasurable their memory, but when they stepped into the heart of her kingdom she considered the game fair. Her gaze swept over Jaxen, then spent longer studying his friend. Not a member of Jaxen's circle, by either his clothes or manner, which suggested another sort of lure. On a day such as this, one sought like company. In the softly curved booth, it was Manix she sat closest to, leaving him caught between the two of them. She'd been cold and angry the last time she'd spent any time here, but another face presented now. No less ruthless, and no less cruel, but there was fire in place of the ice. Her hair was a midnight tide over one shoulder. One foot propped on the low table, clad in a motorcycle boot. Slick leathers hugged the rest of her body, a jacket zipped up her chest. A curious tigress come to investigate the interlopers. - Manix - 08-04-2016 Manix looked into the drink, like it held the answers of the universe. He had whispered just hint of his theory to Aria and she blew it off. With a sigh he began. This....Power, not be new nor it be not old. I think i have found evidence that she travels time in a circle and pops out at the worlds turning points. She will also spin out............. Manix had spent too many years of danger, not to know someone approached. A cold chill ran thru him and goose bumps was on his arms as the beauty slid next to him. He had grabbed the power the 2nd she sat down. A very thin thread of earth was coiled around her neck. Death was was only a whim away. G'day me lady. Manix Lir of the clan Lir, I be at ur service. - Jaxen Marveet - 08-04-2016 The club's soft music made a cushion for the mind. Jaxen let his wander worlds away, navigating memories of a gambit, playfully mixed with power. A thrust of the arm in the air summoned beverages. Like a good Russian, theirs was vodka on ice, twist of lime. Vodka before business, his father would have said. With the first swallows, to business they turned. Manix's theory pricked at the edges of his mind. Circles and time swirled, barely seen, like snakes in the grass. Snakes encircling the entire globe... Manix fell quiet, and Jaxen soon learned why. She slipped into their booth, the seductive owner of the club. She sat next to Manix to toy with him. Those fingers might as well be claws hooking into his chest. Or else she sat to keep the better looking man in view. Again, he was tempted to copy Manix and introduce himself as a member of Clan Marveet. After his eyes hovered momentarily on the thread of earth twining her throat, he chose something else entirely. He ignored her. Jaxen's slippery gaze fell back to his companion, lips quirked coy around the rim of his glass. Tarin said something about time. Jaxen once asked just how ancient were The Ancients, to which the teacher answered, 'since the beginning of time.' "Why do you care about this power popping up eons ago or eons in the future? It doesn't effect us living and breathing now." He'd never been a student of history, or given more value to legends than the entertainment of a good fairy tale. "Unless there's something to be gained?" - Oriena - 08-06-2016 [[Just to clarify, Ori is not holding the power]] Jaxen's companion quietened at her presence, and introduced himself instead. If he seemed tense at her intrusion, she did not chose to acknowledge it, instead making a lascivious study of a man who so blithely offered to be at her service. "I can barely understand a word you say," she said in Russian, uncaring as to whether or not he understood the mother tongue. Her smirk sharpened its edges, then abruptly softened with a hum of laughter. Whether he comprehended her words or not, she made no secret of the fact she was fucking with him. "You've come to a burlesque house to theorise? Gentleman, you've missed the point." Jaxen's blind eye did not go unchecked, but the brief irritation fizzled from her skin. She took it instead as an invitation to play. - Manix - 08-06-2016 Manix was surprised that Jax just continued to rattled on, what was his game then the beauty spoke, Russian, games? Manic could play games. He had sailed the world and could fit in at any port of call if he so choose and more important spoke at least a dozen tongues. in flawless Russian: I be sorry m'lady for me thick brogue. he held up his shot glass: To a rare beauty! he slammed the empty glass on the table. Giving Jax a stern look, he wondered if he needed to shut em up himself. - Jaxen Marveet - 08-07-2016 The first time hearing Oriena speak Russian, Jaxen smirked. He rarely returned to the language of their fathers, of his father, if only because it pleased Scion Marveet to do so. His shrug agreed with Oriena, but he'd been able to understand Manix close enough. When the - what was he? Scottish? - sailor dribbled Russian himself, Jaxen choked on his vodka. Where the hell did that come from? Recovering, he licked his lips as Manix toasted Oriena. She was sure to love that. A purring kitten, she was. "To a rare beauty." he added, lifting his glass, and looking around. "Can someone point one out for me?" He winked at Manix. |