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'''Summary''': Irenic ends up meeting the [[User:Reginae|Queen of Alithrya]] in an unusual way.
'''Summary''': Irenic ends up meeting the [[User:Reginae|Queen of Alithrya]] in an unusual way.
=Alithrya Arena=
=Alithrya Arena=

Latest revision as of 16:15, 25 March 2020

Part of the Mearcstapa Arc

Summary: Irenic ends up meeting the Queen of Alithrya in an unusual way.

Alithrya Arena

The large arena dominates the landscape of the city, sounds of war surrounding you as you step onto the gravel-esque floor, crunching beneath each footstep. Looking about, this place is filled with bystanders, onlookers, and cheering masses just waiting for the next thrill of the fight. A wounded combatant thrusts his sword up into the air, victorious, his other arm half cleaved as he stands on two legs, unusual for most of the populace of this Naga city. Two "workers" drag away the corpse of the loser, off to the west towards the lesser arena, where participants appear to be of the more wild variety from the hideous roars that fiercely echo from there. Off to your east is an open cage, possibly an entrance, or exit, to where these creatures and combatants are held.

Irenic has been doing anything he can think of to keep himself adventuring in order to distract his mind from wandering because once that happens, he’s pulled back to Larket or Cenril and he’s trying to stay as far away from those places as possible. First, he took a little trip to Chartsend for a few days and made a new friend, but now he was looking for a fair fight to work out some frustrations and he’s heard great things about naga warriors, so he's found himself in Alithrya. Today was mixed martial arts day at the arena and the wingless seeming avian had worked his way to the top champion who refuses to use his shapeshifting abilities to fight, but that means nothing to Irenic. Although the avian has been through a few fights already, he seems practically untouched! Flawless, even. When he’s introduced, dark blonde/lightest brown hair is pushed back with a bruised knuckle decorated left hand and a devious smirk spreads across the angular features of the man. Needless to say, the young man looks almost angelic and the bits of crowd that aren’t naga audibly cat call the shirtless man when the announcer calls, “and in this corner, Ireniiiiic Oldeeeeer!” The arrogant man does a little showing off for the crowd, a wink here and a point there, but his grin is hungry… dangerous.

Once the fight starts, the crowd goes wild - jeering and cheering volley back and forth depending on whose side their on. Irenic gets thwomped with his opponents tail, but he wraps his muscular arms around the tail to give a good tug and this surprises the champion enough to falter in surprise. Irenic leaps up and drives his fist across the naga’s jaw before landing back on the gravel floor while the crowd goes wild. Maybe he got a little too cocky too fast because the naga was on him quickly, giving him a real hammering down and for the second time, Irenic lost control. Blazing wings sprout quickly from his back and brilliantly light up the shocked expression on his opponent, but the avian carries on and the pair go toe to toe for a good five minutes. The crowd is tense as they can see their long time champion becoming worn and tired, but they remain hopeful that he will beat that stupid avian!

Unfortunately, the newcomer gets the best of the naga, with a kick to the face and then he’s pinned down hard - tail flailing about to regain the fight, but it’s official, “and our new champion is Irenic Oldeeeeer!” Some cheering could be heard past the booing, but Irenic stands up with a wide swollen lipped grin, throwing his blooded hands in the air and looking about the crowd with a black eye while breathing heavily. People are angered and calling for a disqualification because of the wings of fire!

Reginae’s thoughts had been usually blood thirsty lately. Muzo didn’t hold her interest in brute sports nor did he often hold his ground against any impulsive rage she might be trying to feed. Their dynamic and partnership had both grown and fractured with the summoning of the Leviathan (Gospel). Muzo’s wonder with the beast and the situation occupied his mind obsessively where Reginae felt a freedom with it’s arrival. They had a powerful weapon,no one would dare rage war against them. Still, Alithrya had champions. The Queen (herself, from the Larket Tournament), the Leviathan (because, obviously), and whatever contenders survived the dust and splattered walls of the arena.

That’s what brought her to judge in the Arena today. Staying inside, listening to Muzo’s incoherent ramblings about time, space, and power had bored her. The scientific sector of her mind was drained and she craved only the raw power and brutal savagery of a real fight. And as she had no foe to grapple presently...This would have to do. Yozenra is at her side, leaning over to whisper observations about this strange man occupying the ring alongside the current champion. The crowd is oddly accepting of him, given that he doesn’t look Naga. She didn’t recognize his name either.

“He’s too arrogant,” The Queen told her Guard as the final fight begins, frowning with disinterest as the man’s toppled by the naga contender. He’d had a good run, she agreed, but every dog has it’s day, and it was not this dog’s day. Irenic’s wings flare to life a beat later, the bright flash of light drawing Regi’s attention back to the fight. Instantly, she stands up straight on her snowy serpentine tail, taken aback by this random development. An avian? Why would an avian, of all Aramoth’s creatures, be in Alithrya? A lover of the skys deep under ocean waves and outside Time’s meager grasp? This Older fellow floors the naga, who is unable to escape despite his flailing tail, and the arena erupts when the winner is named.

Irenic’s chaotic side, thanks phoenix curse, is being fed by the booing and the announcer starts in with, “now calm down everyone. We will get this sorted,” but during the quiet of the judges booth Irenic is fuming and he full on sprints to the edge of the arena wall to start cussing up a storm in a spectator’s face. The low gruff timbre of the avian could be heard over the crowd, “look here you, *%#=! I’ll •£<$ing take you by your insides until you @!#% and ~)#{* within an inch of your life!” The blaze of his wings are reflecting in the fury of his silvery hues and it seems there is about to be a fight breaking out in the crowd. Right when he reached for the naga in the crowd, a few guards came out to pull the avian back, but only a few wasn’t enough and he soon had five guards trying to hold him back. The other fighters pile in the arena to help out, but eventually this turns into an all out battle royale type brawl! No matter what, anyone could spot the avian due to his blazing wings and it seemed that wherever he happens to be, it is the epicenter of chaos. Eventually, they get everyone separated and bring the avian down to the ground, a guards knee presses his face into the gravel, but the sadistic man is still grinning through it all and if you listened close enough, you could hear a low gruff chuckle coming from him. Suddenly the winner doesn’t matter, Irenic is being shackled so they could haul him off to a holding cell until he calms the eff down!

Reginae watches as the scene unfolds with interest. While the crowd boos and the judges scramble to quell the rising tensions, she only observes. She’s still upright, watching the other naga confer, when Irenic lashes back at the crowd. It surprises her and she laughs in spite of herself. Not cocky, she thinks, but hot headed. Distracted. This was a man who didn’t want to feel anything. Who let rage flare in place of what he was avoiding. Numb, distraught, emptiness. He wasn’t fighting the naga. Whatever he wrestled with was internal and he was doing so with such visceral ferocity. Though he’d beat their Arena champion, the guards are able to subdue him swiftly enough that there are no casualties. The Queen watches with a bleak satisfaction as he’s pulled out of the crowd and escorted out, towards the prisons and the palace.

Naga prisons are built for shapeshifters so the binds are uniquely charged to drain away any magic the confined might possess. Irenic will be shackled at his wrists and around the waist. He’ll be placed in an isolated cell with no ambience to speak of. Darkness and the far off drip of water. It smells damp, moldy. The air is thinner here. He’ll be left alone with whatever demons the avian is attempting to escape. The guards will post outside the prison doors. Minimal light filters in from the bars down the hall. Reginae takes her sweet time arriving. She confers with Yozenra at length, waiting for the Arena to clear before heading to the prison. She didn’t want to contend with the crowd, which was still buzzing with energy after the fight and subsequent chaos. The guards permit her entrance immediately and when she appears before the caged bird she’s sporting humanoid legs and a grim grin of amusement.

“You’ve gotten yourself into a bit of a mess.” She says casually, as if she had no authority over the situation. “The Queen’s going to have to grant you pardon and I don’t know if you know this but...non-nagas aren’t exactly beloved here.” There’s still prejudice against outsiders. Avians held a specific spot of envy for Reginae personally, but she’d bent her opinions for their race before. When she’d supported Brennia, long ago.

Irenic is apparently not too hard to figure out, but he’s unconcerned with people’s assumptions on his behavior. Grinning proudly the entire time he’s being hauled away, like a bratty child even as he finds himself shackled up in a cold cell. The avian takes a deep breath in his lonely moment and lets out a low slow chuckle to no one, but then there is a feminine voice talking at him and he slowly turns around while smirking in that devious way the man usually does. Slow steps bring him to the cell bars until his angular featured face rests between the iron and grimy bruised hands rest on the one horizontal bar, “oh, I’m sure she couldn’t give one damn about an outsider like me and rightfully so.” A pleased grin spreads across his lips as his gaze makes quick work of giving her a once over.

He has no idea who the queen is, if she was even at the arena and definitely has no idea that this gorgeous being is before him is indeed THE QUEEN, but he keeps his wits about him. The swelling on his eye sockets had already gone down exponentially, but a purple hue still decorated them and this makes the striking silvery irises stand out even more as they rest true to Reginae's own gaze. His low gruff timbre, sounding old and out of place on the man’s young face, ponders - “I have a feeling you can help me earn my way out of this cell... Do you?” One of the guards is giving Irenic a shocked look because, how dare he address the queen in such a casual way!? The man should be bowing on his knees and begging to be let out of this place! The avian can sense the tension, but his gaze is unwavering in the woman before him because he can tell that there is something about her. Something that she wants to explore freely and he wants to encourage such chaotic behavior.

Reginae maintains her cool demeanor. Not even letting the smallest smile slip through when he asks if she can help him. “Perhaps,” she shrugs pragmatically, a low hand behind her back shoo’ing the guards attention. Don’t blow my cover dude. “But I’m just an outsider too.” An easy lie with legs. This man reminds her of Nico, her male persona used in contact with strangers and most non-naga. Maybe she should have picked that form to approach Irenic with. Too late now. “Don’t they have a queen where you come from?” She asks leaning forward to examine his injuries with an exaggerated tilt of her head. Yozenra appears behind Reginae and sighs quietly. Reginae really was behaving like a mean spirited child of late. “Whoops,” she sings at her Queen’s guard’s appearance. “Looks like they sent the big dogs to deal with you.” Reginae in disguise salutes the avian with on touch of her index finger to her temple before she makes a move to ‘leave’. Yozenra, annoyed with the charade, moves past the guards at the door and studies Irenic with bright lavender eyes. “A word,” the naga demands, banging her trident staff against the bars so they ring loudly. As the ringing floods the small cell, Reginae turns round and seems to pull Yozenra off the ground and down onto her back. It looked more dramatic than it really was. Yozenra’s back doesn’t even ‘thud’ with the contact. “Quick!” She called to Irenic, swiping a key from the other guards belt and throwing it in Irenic’s cell so he can unchain himself. In the meantime, the guard is looking at Regi with confusion. He didn’t understand what was happening. She stole the key...but she’s the queen...she could have just as easily waved her hand to have him released. But instead she’s...going about this whole scenario. Reginae repeats the motion of ‘dropping’ the guard (gently) and scowls at the remaining sentry. “Go, run away,” she whispers, the smallest gesture encouraging him to leave was blocked by her position to the cage. The guard looked confused and Yozenra groans on the floor. Once Irenic’s free she’ll urge him towards the exit. “They’re down, they’re down -” She reminded him, hopeful he wouldn’t try to further incapacitate her army. “Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go.”

Irenic’s arrogant smirk grows into delight when he sees this rogue woman start taking suckers down. Avians, being the intellectual folk they are, aren’t easily fooled, but Irenic allows things to unfold as they may because he’s unsure exactly who this woman is, so he will continue this interaction with undetectable caution. “You seem to be full of surprises, lady,” he mentions while making quick work of unlatching the shackles from around his wrists and waist. By the time he unlocks the cell door and steps out, this woman had managed to single handedly scare off or take down the guards.

Without any real plan or any know how on the layout of Alithrya, let alone the palace, the avian thinks quickly and wraps his hand around the stranger’s forearm before taking off toward the exit with her right behind him. Once they are out in the hallways, he allows her to navigate them to safety until his adept hearing picks up the sound of guards slithering up to an intersection and he thinks quickly, pulling the stranger to squeeze in close behind a column. Irenic looks down at the woman and puts his finger over his lips, but having to be quiet goes without pantomiming. During this close encounter, Reginae could pick up notes to her favorite smell coming from the uncouth again as his silvery hues focus on the floor of the hallway to wait for shadows, but the guards must have went down the other hallway

When the coast is clear, he smirks down at the disguised queen before continuing to follow her every step to safety - or his demise! Who really knows, but he’s having a good ol time sneaking around the palace.

Reginae takes her sweet time pretending not to know the way but Irenic follows and she feels cockier for it. Like a cat that’s leading a mouse unwittingly to a trap. When he pulls her behind the column, the naga in disguise is legitimately startled. She hadn’t heard the guards, too focused on keeping up the act of being someone else. What she smells rolling off the stranger was a pungent mix of Tomato Juice, Metal, and old books. Her cerulean blues drop to the floor, a momentary lapse in her fun. A sharp pain in her chest. Muzo.

When the guards pass and the avian smirks overhead (for why wouldn’t she disguise herself as a small, unassuming woman) and waits for her to lead the way. So lead the way she did! She snuck them down the corridor of empty prison cells and abandoned labs. All save one, but they didn’t stop to consult the lab or it’s inhabitants. They were close to the housing quarters now, and her plan was blossoming nicely as they skirted another pair of guards. When Reginae looked back, she saw Yozenra shoo’ing the others along to clear the queen’s path. Rascally guard. She must know what Reginae’s up to. She sprints down the next marble corridor anxiously. The floors shine, over polished white, and many golden doors no doubt hold many golden secrets inside. Ahead, another patrol slithers in their direction. With a dramatic burst of energy she pulls open a seemingly random door and shoves Irenic inside before slamming it shut.

In the room is a large four poster bed decked out in the Alithryian colors. It’s lavishly furnished, with an inground soaking tub for more reptilian visitors. On the bed is a female naga, mousy brown hair and a round face, with a pair of glasses sliding down her nose. She jumps back when he’s pushed in both otherwise doesn’t look surprised to see him. She hums, assessing the state of his bruises and staring up at the now closed and locked door separating them from the hall. Regi is on the other side, waving the guards on with a devilish smirk.

“Sit down,” The naga physician sighs, pointing to a plush bench at the edge of the bed. Why the Queen wanted to heal and clean up this filthy bird is beyond her. If he resists or tries to leave the room, he’ll find the door magically sealed and the naga woman more annoyed than before. “Queen’s orders.” She hisses, dragging him to the bench of he doesn’t move there of his own volition.

Irenic freezes to a stop with a bit of a skid in the middle of this opulent room and his gaze narrows as he takes in his surroundings. It seems they simply delved in further of the palace instead of escaping and he grunts out a, “f#*%.” When he whips around to question the woman that led him here, she is nowhere to be found and at this point he is accepting his demise. Wearing nothing more than a tight pair of wrestling pants and decorated in the dirt and blood of his arena fight. With a sigh and then a grunt, he’s forced to sit, “who is your Queen?” He asks in genuine curiosity and when he’s answered, the avian looks up to the physician, “is this Queen of yours forgiving by chance?”

Irenic knew there was something off about that broad, but he keeps to himself as the physician works on healing him and now the avian is looking like his usual self…. Well, his younger usual self. “You’ve got this hot librarian look going for you. I’ve always had a love for books,” his devilish smirk returns with his brash flirting, but, HEY! The guy has gotta try something to entertain his predicament.

Nadia wasn’t used to such attention from men. Her face flushes and she looks away, hiding behind a curtain of her blonde hair. Irenic could hear the naga hiccuping quietly as she focused on cleaning his wounds. His question is processed a beat later. Lately the Queen had been...different. Crazy, if you believed the rumors. A madness had taken her, no doubt inflicted upon her by that disgraced scientist Muzo. But Nadia wouldn’t say this to a stranger and NO ONE DARED say this to the Queen herself. “Sometimes,” is what she decides to whisper, shooting a glance to the space behind Irenic uncertainly.

“I’d thank you not to fluster my physician.” Reginae’s cool voice floats from behind him. Unannounced, the Queen circles back towards the front of the room to look Irenic over appraisingly. She hums and pats Nadia’s head affectionately. “Thank you dear.” Nadia stiffens, looking up from her place on the bench and gives Reginae a warm smile. “ “tis a pleasure always.” The young woman bleated before gathering her supplies and excusing herself without another word.

Without the physician in the room, Reginae half expected the avian to come at her. The tip of her snowy tail flicks in anticipation of a battle that may or may not come about. Her arms are crossed laxley across her stomach. “It isn’t every day that an outsider visits. Rarer still that they should compete in the Arena.” She pauses, trying to read his face. “Unheard of that one should topple a Naga Champion.” Reginae wrinkles her nose, patronizing the male. “So do me a favor and fill in the gaps for me, hmm? What brings you to Alithrya? Enjoying a little blood bath vacation perhaps?” Or was he a Larketian spy? A bounty Hunter sent here to collect Muzo’s head for Hildegarde or Josleen? Regi tilts her head, long white tresses grazing her cheeks. “Why, dear Irenic Older, are you in my kingdom?”

Irenic stays put, relaxes even. Funny reaction to being around royalty when most people’s buttholes clench in the presence of such awesomeness! He had simply looked over his shoulder to the Queen, still smirking, “soft and shy ladies deserve love, too.” Then the winks to the physician right before he offers up a gruff, “thanks,” for her services. When Irenic is under the Queen’s gaze of scrutiny, he doesn’t put forth any effort to make himself look any better or worse for her benefit. “Well, I just felt like it,” said with a halfhearted shrug, even. “What brings me here? I was looking for a fight and heard that naga warriors are wicked strong, so I figured I’d come and get my ass kicked, but it didn’t really work out that way,” his lips spread into that cocky grin with an eye roll again after giving this queen a slow once over.

Honestly? He didn’t think he’d make it past his first opponent! “Now… Why was I looking for a fight?” Letting out an exhausted breath and suddenly his true age shows far off in those silvery hues. “I just needed a distraction. I need to find ~something~ to keep me busy and constantly moving or else I’ll end up back in Cenril or Larket,” Frostmaw what?! Ew, cold - no thanks! “I just can’t be there right now… I hate Larket.” It’s true! He’s said it so often lately that it may just be his best catchphrase. “Am I free to go?” The avian rises to a standing position as his gaze doesn’t dare leave Reginae’s.

Instead of a brazen lie, the avian offers what the Queen already thought to be true - that he was running, looking for a distraction in the fights, and now found himself the winner and no less distracted than before. “Cocky answer,” She noted aloud when he stands. “Then we are of like minds about Larket.” She notes, though she doesn’t know why HE wouldn’t want to be there. Cenril isn’t notable to her, so she doesn’t comment on it. His question to go is ignored in favor of more questions about Larket. “Where are you eager to go, if you aren’t going to Larket or Cenril avian? What ghosts await you there?” She lofts her brows as if she’s pulled the rug out from under him (obviously not, this was a soft ball of a question). What she - really- wanted was to see if she could touch any tender nerves. To respark the anger and wanton recklessness she’d seen in the Arena.

Irenic is beginning to tire of these games and maybe a little defensive of a deep hidden feeling of abandonment. He had given this one person his everything and was finally ready to stop living with such reckless abandon, but it wasn’t enough - he wasn't enough. The arrogant avian is highly ashamed of these weak feelings and the more Reginae tries to pry, the more he starts feeling that heat radiating down his spine. “I’m eager to go anywhere,” he turns to head toward the door. “And if you don’t mind, Reginae,” how dare he disrespect the crown so! The arse starts to head toward the door as he says, “I don’t think you have any just cause to hold me here any longer for starting a little fight.”

If he were to think about it later, he should’ve known that the woman that broke him out ended up being the Queen and he would know that they currently share an insatiable hunger for violence and chaos. With his hand on the door handle, will it open? And if it does, will Regine let him? The man is close to tipping once more.

Reginae closes her eyes thoughtfully. “This is a place,” She offers, helpfully. This jab at her name in place of her title doesn’t bother her. She hasn’t always been a Queen. She’s happy to finally have a -name- after her childhood. Playing second chair to her sister got old real quick. “You’re right, I don’t have any -just- cause.” But that doesn’t mean she’ll be a proper Queen and let him go. When Irenic tries the door, the handle will turn, the door cracking to let a sliver of light in before the end of her tail pushes against the door’s bottom and slams it closed. Only then does Reginae open her eyes and turn back to him, waiting for whatever expression will eat up his face. Without missing a beat, her tail coils around his left leg, squeezing tight and yanking him back, lifting him up in the air. There he’ll dangle for a breath before she dunks him, backside first, in the bathing pool (which Nadia filled with water apparently). She releases his leg once he’s partially submerged. There’s no weight holding him down. She might be mean but she isn’t that cruel. Casually, she leans her elbows on her bowed tail and looks down at him. “Ire.” She says, simply, wondering if his fire wings can sprout on his damp body. Wondering after that if he’ll try to retaliate. That would be a just cause, wouldn’t it? If he attacked the Queen? “Fury. Rage. Wrath.” The words are listed off in time with one another, simple as a song. “That, my dear, is what you are.”

Irenic didn’t do much fighting back because everything happened so fast, slamming the door shut, picking him up like a rag doll and finally being dunked in the tank of water, but during Reginae’s last word, he’s crawling from the water just when the room begins to fill with steam. Yes, his wings don’t fare too well in water, but his spine heats up so fast that the water evaporates off him just before the inferno extension sprouts blindingly from his back. His jawline tense along with every taut muscle in the near seven foot man’s body and with one beat of his wings, he has Reginae pinned against the wall behind her. “I… am ~nothing~,” the gravely low timbre barks through heavy breaths without needing to raise his voice to hold power. Fire reflects dangerously in his irises as they narrow when glaring into Reginae’s, “what do you want from me, Reg?” His grip tightens a little around her biceps as they are pressed into the marble wall behind her and the wings curve around to block them in. Sure there are many openings for her to take advantage of, but one thing he could never expect is that he’s in the presence of a titans of winter tournament winner.

Reginae hadn't meant to taunt him. Well, she had, but she was also musing on his name. His energy. She was -thinking- he could be useful. That's how he caught her off guard. She's expected him to fight, sure, but the force with which he rallied made it that much clearer. Back to the wall, flame light banishing all shadow from her pale face, her oceanic eyes appear unphased. “But that's not true at all. If you were nothing, you wouldn't still be fighting.” In the arena, in the closed quarters of this guest room, with life in general. Maybe he just wanted to be put out of his misery... But no, that didn't seem right. His fury burned too bright. He wanted more than nothing and as such was more than nothing. The snowy haired Naga leans her face in closer to Irenic’s until their noses nearly touch. What did she want from him? Crystal bright scales slither neatly behind him through one such opening. The tip of her tail ticks soundlessly in the air behind him. His wings are obscuring their view. He'll have no warning. The end of her tail will snap tight around his throat without her blinking an eye. Even as the flames in his wings smoke and turn sections of her tail into dark, fired spots. Naga scales make high end armor for this reason. Light weight, resistance to extremes like fire or acid. “I want you to fight for me.” She answered, pulling him back up and off his feet by the throat. “If you have all this pain and nothing to fight for, I'll give you a cause.” She waits a beat before slowly lowering him to the ground again. “Also you assaulted the Queen so…” Her tail retreats, wrapping neatly back around her. “I'd advise you to stand down while you're still ahead.”

Irenic’s gaze doesn’t move from Reginae’s and even as she brought their faces closer, he didn’t flinch or shy away. Stubborn. Even when he feels the scaly tail makes purchase around his neck, but then his smirk halfway returns - seems the avian doesn’t mind some choking. The blazing wings beat slowly so his body weight doesn’t drag him down and choke him too much until he’s set back down. “Well…” his smirk grows again, “you could’ve just asked without the foreplay,” the arrogant man even winks at her. “It is my choice to fight for you and I don’t know what you mean, I was just protecting your highness from a fire,” with that the inferno massive shrink to nothing on his back. “Is this time where you’ll keep your new champion?” His hands open, palm side up as he’s motioning to the space they are in.

Reginae doesn’t look it but she’s confused. How desperate is this man to feel pain? To be distracted from Cenril and Larket? Desperate enough to let her manipulate him like a puppet, it seems. “Oh make no mistake, it’s not a question. There is no -request- here. You ARE my new champion.” His wink is ignored in favor of her own monologue. He tells her it’s his choice to fight. She flashes him a daring grin, fangs visible between her lips. “If it’s my word against yours, love, I’m sorry to say…” She drags the back of her thumb across her neck. In Regi vs Irenic within the Alithrian government, Regi would never be the loser. She -was- the government. She’s impressed he’s still so confident after all this. He isn’t scared of her. Oh but he should be. He turns his mind to more important questions, like the room, and she laughs. “Your priorities are interesting.” She notes, the small mess from their tantrums is negligible. “All of my guests stay in such rooms. Once you’ve proven yourself useful, I’ll invest in nicer accommodations.” Hardly diplomatic of her, considering. Reginae would still pretend to give him a say, though, for the sake of pride. She holds out her hand, waiting to take his with his ‘agreement’. “Is this the lavish distraction you wanted?”

Irenic lets out his usual obnoxious guffaw and meanders near the little pool of water as he realizes that he’s going to have a fun time with this power struggle, “yeah that’s what I said. I’m flattered to be your champion,” his silver hues drop down to the offered hand, but he simply placed his fist over his heart and bends at the waist in a bow to the royal. Where he’s from this is a sign of respect, surely Brennia has done the same at some point since they are from the same island. “Now, if you don’t mind,” unashamed, the avian slips his tight wrestling pants down. “I’m going to bathe,” the man slips into the hot water with a relieved sigh. Yes, he’s not afraid of Reginae, whether it be a deathwish or stupidity is unclear.