RP:Always An Aftermath

Part of the Welcome To The End of Eras Arc

Summary: After finally helping Quintessa resolve the ritual she'd invoked, the swordsman takes some time to himself- only to discover that not only had Rumiko been subject to that scrap, she'd become caught up in her own troubles during the aftermath. It's complicated, but the only way is forward.

Echoing Halls

The old suits of armor and coats of arms have been swept away, replaced with gargoyles carved in such a high level of detail that they look alive. They aren't poised on all fours prepared to leap from a high perch as they're typically depicted, but standing proudly upright, wings outstretched to reveal that they're gilt in gold and silver. Much like the most prominent rooms of the castle, the hallways' walls are high, ceilings arched. Lighting is sparse despite the stained glass windows lining the southern wall from floor to ceiling. There seems to be such a heavy emphasis on space here. Space for sound, specifically. Even your footsteps seem louder, more musical, than normal. The chanting one once heard from the west is long gone, replaced with a haunting, beautiful aria. Elaborate iron wall sconces holding unlit candles seem to vibrate with the sound emanating from the far end of the western hall. Where ornate double doors once stood to the room beyond, there is an archway heavily decorated with waves and swirls of golden filigree, and curiously, set with mauve stones. It's impossible to not be drawn in. An ornate mask wrought from gold with a pair of kunzite stones set in its eyes peers down at you.

Rumiko had had an eventful night. Most of it was a haze of red and screams and pain, and for the second time in as many months she found herself standing outside the shrine entrance. She had stopped by her cabin just long enough to bathe and redress, replacing the ruined, bloody nightdress with a more sturdy, easier cleaned attire. Heeled sandals were replaced by flat, knee-high boots over thick doe hide leggings, paired with a fitted top that was modest enough with a higher neckline and sleeves that covered all the way down to her wrists. The boning of her corset had been removed and replaced with harder steel, and the traditional lacing was cut shorter, leaving just enough to do their job and tuck out of sight. Hands were settled on her hips as she looked over one of the gargoyles, the only sound from the nymph the gentle tapping of her heel.

Kasyr was not sure what he'd been hoping to hear in the shrine. While his prayers were no longer solely greeted by the muted echoes of his own voices- there were no answers to be found, even as a warmth filled his chest. Perhaps, he was was on the right path. But he could never be certain. It was only when he died that he received a degree of certainty, of true clarity. And when he returned, he was always left for a longing- for jagged fragments of what he could remember. Once more he rises to his feet, though he's a far more haggard version of himself -still garbed in the clothes he'd donned for yesterdays battle. The metal in his trench coat clinks against the ground as he staggers to the shrine doors and through them- where he's met by the sight of the fae. ...She looks different. That part is immediately noticeable. But there's something else too that he's trying to put his finger on now, even as he finishes crossing the threshold of the shrine, and into the hallway proper.

Rumiko might have lingered in the hallway in order to give the kensai privacy in the shrine, or it could simply be that she'd chosen to linger in the same space she would have died, had he not been there to save her. Her bottom lip was withdrawn into her mouth, teeth working the flesh in gentle pinches and rolls as she stared hard at the statue, as if it had caused her some kind of personal slight. She was *angry*. The emotion was as stuffed down within her as she could force it, but even still the air around her was thick with it. The steady tapping of her heel on the floor quieted as she heard movement coming from within the shrine, and her head jerked towards her sire to offer him a once-over. Where she in a different state of mind, she might feel bad for what she needed, but there was no room for that today. Though the blood had been washed away, there was no hiding that freshly-fed look she was sporting; the fullness of her features and the alertness in her gaze would be enough under the subtle lilac scent she wore. A closer look might reveal freshly healed and even still healing wounds poking out from the sleeves of her shirt and across her knuckles. The nymph had been in some sort of scuffle, and though she was still standing and seemingly on the mend, she had too much built up rage leftover to risk letting it fester further. A step backwards put her directly in his path, and it was likely the only request she'd offer. He had mentioned training, no? Now was as good a time as any.

Kasyr can feel the simmering heat of her anger, and while it does not seem directed to him- the manner in which she firmly plants herself within his path is difficult to ignore. The door to the shrine clicks to a close behind him, but his attention remains fixed on her- even as he'd subtly shift his posture to one side- to test if she'd mirror that effort to bar his path. At another point, he'd possibly even make a game of it- but right now, regardless of the outcome, he'll simply shift back to a standing position and stare. Partly at her, partly through her. It takes a moment for him to realize that he ought to, perhaps, be concerned- his blank stare properly focusing in on her, "Something happen?" The scent, even mingled with floral overtones, is starting to become clearer- and the possibility of a problem gives him something to latch onto. "Happened. Are you- okay?"

Rumiko did not shift her stance to match- instead choosing to remain set in the center of the hall as if her small, five foot frame took up the entirety of the space. There was a hesitation as she shuffled through the somethings that had happened, all of which led her back here to this musical hallway that she would never be able to fully enjoy again. "Physically? Or other? Because I am not sure how to answer the latter." A hand rose to tug on her left ear, perhaps a touch harder than she intended, "Ears finally stopped ringing." Arms crossed over her middle in a vain attempt to hide the flexing and curling of her hands against her sides. "The dark forest is down a group of savages." She wasn't sure if she'd gotten them all, but there was nothing left of their little settlement. Quieter then, "And an innocent." It had been an accident, and likely the only thing that snapped her out of that hazy bloodlust she'd fallen into. "How..." Her arms pulled in tighter, as if she were trying to keep herself from exploding outward as her gaze dropped to the floor, "How do you control it?" Despite the meekness of her stature, her voice still carried that edge of upset.

Kasyrs' lips purse, his thoughts flickering back to the prior evening. How long had she stayed to watch that clash? How proximal had she been to the worst of it? He's trying to read her expression, but beyond the bit of fidgeting, he can't glean much- so instead directs his attention to her features. To see if there was perhaps, some sign of frostburn or- no, no it all seemed healed away. Glossed over, beneath a fresh paint of blood. "Another normal night in the forest." The joke, deadpan as it is, falls flat at her following admission. "How-?" The order- but. No, if they got in the way. If they were proximal. If they made the mistake of being a threat for even a moment. "Nevermind." Why force her to think on it longer. "I try not to wait for starvation, or being wounded too badly." But that's not really what she's asking- is it? Because it can't always be reined in. "Or I direct it. I remember what I want to see erased, I hold it close until I can-" He glances towards her, to the almost defensive posture she holds, "Reminding myself of what I don't want to hurt helps. It's not always enough. Practice can only do so much. There's lapses. It's what the orders are put in place, for the fledgelings I've had. A crutch, tu sais?"

Rumiko had stayed up until the point that Kasyr had done, whatever the hell he had done to shatter the ice that had been trying to encapsulating him. Thankfully that had been the brunt of the damage she'd taken for their fight, though the daze it had left her in had lasted too long. Kasyr didn't need to clarify his question, she had been asking herself the very same question for hours. "I didn't touch her, I swear." At least, not with her hands or fangs. The whys and how’s of it were still lost on her, and she knew at some point she would need to go back to try and figure it out. "I didn't realize how hungry I was." The nymph was offering bland answers to his comments despite his lack of questioning, and she seemed to pull herself inward even more. She was hiding. Using the anger she felt for the ruler of Enchantment, the attack that could have ended her life, and the self-loathing she currently felt for herself as s shield- a cover to coat and seal away the more fragile emotions that she was desperately trying to keep from bubbling up to the surface. "Direct it?" Her gaze rose then, expression unsure. "Is that why you fight." With the changeling, not the world. "Why you risk killing one another? To curb the aggression?"

Kasyr continues to scrutinize the fae, though his position shifts to take up a spot on the wall across from her. Her comment feels defensive, almost- and a part of him wonders if he she'd expected him to be angry. Her sincerity, and confusion, is difficult to miss- and so, he simply lets it go, quietly listening as she goes over the events, likely for herself as much as him. There's more she's not telling him, but, "You can go over the rest when you're ready." His attention flicks off towards the hallway, searching for some hint of a nosy servant- or if their presence was doing an adequate job of warding away curious souls. Nothing, yet. Which meant he had plenty of time to think on her question. "You're not- ...That isn't entirely it. But, you're not wrong, either." She'd put more thought into it then he had. His thoughts had drifted towards vindictiveness, murder in the name of 'retaliatory' justice, or 'fixing a problem' - but, he'd found plenty of other avenues to feed that appetite for violence, hadn't he? "An outlet, j'suppose. All of the Coterie used to spar with each other. We thrilled in those opportunities to cut loose, et test each other. It made us strong, but it provided- a release, j'suppose. Even when things were peaceful, and there wasn't some obvious enemy to prey on." There was, of course, other small prey- but, "It's always easy when the world decides somethings evil. You get applauded for your nature in those moments. Moreso, if you do a good job of masking it, the rest of the time."

Quintessa had been making nightly visits to Daedria’s shine while staying in Vailkrin, a small ritual to help give her chaotic life some structure. When the changeling can hear voices just up ahead on her way through the echoing hallway however, she slows her pace, lingering just out of sight, just close enough to eavesdrop. Soon it becomes clear who is speaking, the current targets of her obsessive fixation, the pair of vampires whose house she was enjoying the hospitality of, so she stops lingering in the shadows and slowly allows her bare feet to carry her closer. Quintessa wears only her silken sleeping robes tied tightly against her frame as she steps up to them, a curious glint in her eyes as she adds to the last bit of Kasyr’s advice: “Eventually you just become the mask.” She offers him a tiny smile before her mismatched eyes find Rumiko, casually glancing over her appearance before she asks, “How are you adjusting?” A sanitary, almost clinical way to ask how the nymph was doing perhaps, but she showed she cared in her own ways.

Rumiko had indeed expected him to be angry. To scream and yell and punish her in some sort of way. It was less about how she viewed her sire and more to do with what she felt she deserved. Shame was a hell of a feeling, and the subtle embarrassment that came when she realized she would not be on the receiving end of that perceived anger seemed to pop the cork in her own. Shoulders relaxed first, and she moved to roll them to work out the stiffness that had built up. "It has been quite some time since I held a weapon for any reason other than to look a certain part." Too many times in her life she had been little more than a doll, dressed up to fit some purpose or another. Her arms, though loosening, did not release their hold just yet, the nymph still unsure she wouldn't completely lose herself if she let go completely. Quintessa's appearance did little to quell those churning emotions, but for some absurd reason she felt a stronger need to bury those weaker feelings. "I suppose that has yet to be truly seen." She had thought he was doing fine, but then again maybe she was just having a bad day. "I do not know that I could purposely try to harm you for no reason." Rumi spoke to both then, "Though if that would help, I am willing to try."

Kasyrs' attention slides over towards the changeling and lingers there. He wants to smile, but there's something about her casual air that clicks home for him- an understanding that she likely -hadn't- gone home. His head tilts towards the other shoulder, as he instead chooses to focus on her words, "You just have to be careful about the mask you choose to fill, j'suppose." As he returns to observing Rumiko, he can't help but find it interesting. Because though the obvious signs of tension leave her posture, her stance still looks guarded. But she didn't look scared, not of him. He had a handle on things. Nothing here had been intentional. The fingers of his right hand drum against the wall. "Well. Beyond those orders, I'm not apt to force you to do anything. Hell if I even look the part for a monarch, most of the time." When she voices her concern at harming him, he can't help but smile, "Well then, I suppose I could explain it this way. You are, for better or worse, a royal again. Tied to Vailkrins ruling house. You're going to be a target now, for the necropolis, for any newcomer looking to make a name, et likely for the ambitious in the sidelines. You're going to need to train, if you want to survive. Et I've a, "Perhaps comparatively short," lifetime of experience on that front."

Quintessa nods at Rumiko’s response. She understood it took time to come to grips with major changes and that she might not fully grasp the gravity of her situation yet. “Well, take it one day at a time. You have all of eternity to get it right, no need to rush it.” When the conversation shifts to them harming each other, Quintessa can’t help the mischievous grin that spreads upon her face. “You don’t have to worry about harming *him* at least. I barely left a scratch on him.” A devious idea spins in her head now, plans of testing Rumiko’s limits like she promised not even a fortnight ago. “But I could still show you a few things- Perhaps we can find the root of your corrupted magic and see what this metamorphosis means for you? I’ve been documenting your progress so far and I must say it’s been truly illuminating. If you’ll allow me, I can prepare you to fight against any upjumped assassin that even thinks about hurting you. That much I can promise.” Mismatched eyes finally turn to Kasyr, her grin fading as she realizes what he must be thinking; She hadn’t gone back to Kelay yet. “I think I’m comfortable with the mask I’ve chosen to wear,” she says to him, her fading grin becoming more of a smirk. “I’m wrapping up a few things tonight before I head back to Camp Forlorn in the morning.” She gives them both a serious glance. “If either of you need me for anything at all-” she taps the communication crystal hanging from her ear. “Do not hesitate.” Her gaze softens. “I’ll be back before the trial. You’ll barely miss me.”

Rumiko would eventually come to realize that she was indeed no longer scared, at least not in the way she used to be, of Kasyr. That wasn't to say she was stupid enough to think herself above his ire, should she never learn to control her urges. The explanation offered hit all the marks it was intended to, and a slow dip of her head came as it sunk in. "I had not thought of it that way." Not of her shift in station, of her becoming a walking target for not only any of her own enemies, but now Kasyr and Vailkrins as well. There was only so much talking could do to get her out of a tight spot, learning to fight effectively might very well become key to her survival. Quintessa's offer was met with a close-lipped smile; the nymph would never feel quite right about being a subject of study no matter how interesting her situation might be. It was the mention of her magic that had her stomach tightening suddenly, and a hand came to press against the steel boning of her corset as a nausea washed over her. "That might be a better place to start. I have used magic far more than any blade." It was a place to start anyway. The nymph didn't know if she fully understood their meaning of becoming the mask, but as the changeling said she had an eternity to figure it all out. Mention of the camp had her gaze shifting towards Quintessa then, "Will you have the camp moved?" They had spoken about it, but she couldn't remember if a decision had been made.

Kasyr offers a shrug to Quintessas remark about 'harm', a casual reinforcement of how at ease he was with last nights spar. ...With the spar itself, at least. As the subject shifts back to Rumiko, and the changeling dives into her theories and intentions- there's something almost comforting about it. Familiar. His only concern was the palpable unease that still hung around the Fae- as she processed everything surrounding her situation. All the blank spots she still had to figure out, and all the discomforts still to come. "Well. You'll have no shortage of justified targets. In time, you might even start to see some humour in the little vampire slayers that crop up." It was a morbid thought, wasn't it. And when she was still so unsure, "You won't be alone, for any of it, either." He smiles there, a small one but genuine, as he glances back over towards Quintessa, "Either of you, really. We'll figure all of this out- et give the people a new distraction with the trial, once this war ebbs."

Quintessa could tell the subject of Rumiko’s dysfunctional magic made her uncomfortable, so she doesn’t press on the issue any more, a simple, “We’ll figure it out,” offered before the subject of her camp drew her focus. “Yes. I’ve taken enough advantage of Magik’s hospitality as it is. It’s time to leave the Sage Forest behind.” Quintessa’s gaze catches Kasyr’s as she speaks, as if asking permission for something she has not yet asked. “Where we will set up next I do not yet know.” She smiles at the Kensai now, returning his genuine show of appreciation. “You’re not alone either. Remember that.” Quintessa had taken a glimpse into the endless, painful sorrow inside of Kasyr and the experience, though brief, she felt reflected in her soul. Because of her own torment and her own trauma, she felt she had to be there for him because so few others could. “Speaking of distractions…” She glances towards the shrine again. “I was on my way to pay respects to the Lady of Drama. I should probably get to it… Unless you’d like to join me?”

Rumiko supposed the nonchalance they both carried about attacking one another would, in time, come to her as well. Especially with as eager as Quintessa seemed in exploring the ins and outs of the stunted magic she was left with after her turn. She needed to gain control of her greatest weapon once more, and she didn't seem to be getting anywhere on her own with it. "The *what*?" But it was rhetorical- of course there were vampire hunters. Why wouldn't there be? The promise that she wouldn't be alone aided in relaxing her further, and the stance she'd taken to block the hallway was shifted, left heel sliding inward towards the right and allowing her to stand just a little bit taller. "Quintessa is right." Green eyes flicked back towards Kasyr then, and for a moment her uncertainty was replaced with determination, "You are not alone." She echoed the changelings words specifically to make sure he heard them twice. The three of them were bonded together in one way or another, and Kasyr was going to have to learn to deal with a little more noise in the otherwise calm halls. He wasn't likely to get much solitude anymore. A look towards Quintessa was taken, her gaze dropping to the silk cloth that covered the changeling and she offered a small smirk- another sign that she was at least feeling more settled. "I have a bit more reading I would like to accomplish." The nymph had not fancied herself a religious person and was not keen to start tonight. Especially because she wasn't sure that invitation had exactly been directed her way. A dip of her head came next, and with the twist of her heel, she would be headed back across the main hall to her room.

Kasyr had heard those words before, and regardless of the seriousness held in Quintessa's words, the determination echoes in Rumikos' - when he smiles back at them, there's something cold inside. 'How long?' Until they died. Disappeared. Until he made things worse again. The wrong choice, the wrong time. Until he couldn't stand the uncertainty and decided for them. He holds the smile, a little too long- before his eyes flick off towards the hallway, "I'd already made my prayers for the evening, madamoiselle. But I do wish you safe travels, et that the lady hears your songs, et provides you a tune to follow." That said, while he starts to step away, he does still feel it necessary to add, "I do appreciate it, whatever may be." He runs his hands through his hair, already flatted ears easily hidden within the disheveled tangles, "And Rumiko, good luck on your reading." He doesn't need to look anywhere but forward, as he finishes walking down the hallway- and its easier that way.