RP:Carving Out Their Own Nietzsche

Part of the The End's Not Near Arc

Summary: During a mid summer ball, Reginae and Hureig discuss plans going forward with the careful intention of not tipping the scales of fairness. Whatever enemy of the crown exists, it must be fought on their terms without sacrificing their moral codes or values. Hureig agrees to find Reginae a faux assassin so they can begin to work against these unseen forces.

Ballroom

It is amazing what coming out of a coma and getting a few days of good meals in you will do to both build up your energy and begin you on your road to regaining your former glory! Well, at least part of that was true for the very out of place Frost Giant. Gone was the garb he had worn while comatose; someone had seen to it to get him dressed in something of the fashion of male Naga. It did not fit his body too well as his shoulders were too broad, his trunk too short, and he had legs and not a tail, and by the way hands went up to hide conversations and words were whispered so as not to be heard, that seemed to be the point. The choice of clothing was at Hureig's expense, but the thin Giant didn't seem to know or care. he walked from pack of Naga to pack of Naga putting his all into conversations, booming laughter, and friendly pats on backs and shoulders. "You all seem to have a very strange way of dancing," He said to one gaggle of Naga. "I'd like to give it a shot. So...who's gonna dance with me?"

Liza had done her best to make sure Hureig’s outfit was well...an outfit. She herself wasn’t attending. There were patient’s to tend...somewhere else! No patients on the dance floor, she’d repeated several times before leaving Hureig to his enjoyment of the city. “Don’t forget to ask people to dance with you!” She advised, before slamming the door and slithering off to who knows where. The Queen did not enjoy dances in particular because they reminded her, very blatantly that her would be dance partner was elsewhere. Likely juggling a pile of unholy humanoid flesh drowning in blood. How romantic. Since they’re secret exchange, Regi has avoided the lab section of the palace. She didn’t know what to say to Muzo, in regards to his experiment. Of course, she’d ducked in a few times when he wasn’t in. Off to Larket, to aid the Larketian government with their affairs. She’s pull the experiment from it’s jar and think about the complex questions of the universe. Who will dance with me was never one of the big questions. Hureig’s voice pulls her out of this reflection, pale chin leaned into pale palm, she turns to him and spots him across the ballroom. You’ve heard of a needle in a haystack? Try a Frost Giant in a Naga Ballroom. It’s less of a challenge. The group he’s hovering near dissolves into pairs and take to the dance floor to press their palms together in some traditional dance that involved quite a lot of spinning. Reginae pulled herself from the throne and made her way to her guest’s side, offering her arm as if to accept his invitation of dancing without being directly asked. Naga were quite rude, thinking all other races beneath them. But not Reginae. She tried to bridge the gap when she could. When she met someone who spoke to her in the way Hureig spoke to her. Not so much in what he said but who he was, as a person. Something in his heart called out to her and she was paying close attention to see what she’d find. “Would you now?” She asked, recalling his eagerness to give their customary dancing a chance. Her pale palm lifts flat, as if pressed to an invisible wall in front of her. She holds herself at Hureig’s height, pushed up on white scales so they appear to be the same size. “Give me your hand…”

Hureig had noticed that Naga seemed to have rods up their backbones, but that was nothing new. The lower the altitude, the more likely it seemed the denizens would be arrogant jerks. But these Naga had not thrown him in jail like the lowlander Larketians had, and try as they did to ignore him, his overwhelming niceness did seem to widdle them down a bit. He had even thought he'd won one of the Naga over, but in the end it seemed the female's interest was just to rouse to get more amusement out of him. he stood at the edge of the floor dejected and defeated; it seemed he would dance alone. He did not hear the rustling arrival of Reginae, and he nearly jumped clear out of his pale skin when she offered her arm and her question. "Get turned down by a commoner to be offered a dance with a Queen...and I didn't even have to swallow my lucky coin!" Truth be told, Hureig's dancing skills were crude and unrefined. He was better suited to dancing around an opponent with a sword in one hand and the opponent's life in the other as were all of his kind. But when a Queen commands... "I do hope it is a slow dance." He did as Reginae commanded, his thin yet still massive paw laid gently against Reginae's palm.

Reginae quirks a thin brow in his direction. A slow dance? A dance is a dance. Naga culture wasn’t advanced enough in the arts to have both fast and slow music. It’s something Reginae has learned very little about. All dances have learned steps, freestyling is not encouraged, and they are all performed in large groups of naga. No single creature took the dance floor on it’s own or in a pair. She watches as his massive hand dwarfs her palm and she leans past it to make eye contact with Hureig. “If you can fight, you can dance.” She advised, ignorant of his skills. She slithered about one and a half steps forward, keeping her hand in place and waited for Hureig to move that many paces back. She’s continue this process of showing him the steps until they’d completed the basic outline of the dance. Steps forward, steps back, sway left, sway right, center and repeat. One partner always mirrored the other so her forward was his back and so on. The music being played is all drums and flutes, airy but no singing just yet. If any singing happened. It would be throaty and baritone. “What’s this about swallowing a coin?” She didn’t stop to ask if he understood the steps, just moved forward to take up a corner of the dance floor and join the next sequence of dancers as they fluidly shifting through the steps.

If there was one thing Hureig excelled at, it would be counts. It was all he did as a merchant: count coins, remember counts, finagle counts, move counts. So when it came time to memorize the motions of the dance, Hureig took to it like a Naga into water. he absorbed them quickly and mimicked them thoroughly, matching Reginae step for step well into the flurry of the song. But he was no spring chicken...or blue fin tuna...his energy was waning quickly. Soon he was following more than he was an equal; every sway became a little slower, every step a little sluggish, and Aramoth be merciful if Regi threw in a surprise spin or fall! There was life in his eyes, a fiery passion to continue on with the dance and bring a measure of joy to the beautiful Naga that deserved such pleasure, but by the time they reached the corner of the dance floor for a second time? The first circuit was just too much for him. He was reluctant to pull away from her, but even more reluctant to pull her from the dance floor. So as peacefully as he could, he begged her to stop. "Peace, Queen Reginae! Peace! You will have to carry me back to my room if we dance around this beautiful ballroom again. Let's sit. Let's rest. I will tell you about my coins." Whatever was done, Hureig would already be deep within his tale, though if the Queen kept him dancing the story would be riddled with many gasps for air. "I spent my younger years as a caravan guard. I earned the favor and recognition of many merchants and royalty for the work I did. Little human bandits are no match for a Frost Giant, so I was able to break many a arm and leg. Throughout my service, I was gifted three different coins. So long as I hold the coins, I can activate their charms. At times, though, I may need both my hands free, so I swallow them. It isn't as pleasant fishing them out of a latrine later on, but it must be done at times."

Reginae moved through the steps mindlessly, spending her attention on watching those in the ballroom and her dancing partner. As he waned, she shifting them closer to the edge, so they could make a seamless escape. When he calls for peace, a smile lights up her face, punctuated by laughter. He was getting use to this walking business as it was, who was she to press him. "It's good exercise," she remarks as they move to a row of cushioned benches that line the ballroom. She nods as he speaks, grabbing a flute of water from a passing server he spoke about breaking arms and legs. Her eyes light when he speaks of coins with magical properties. "What charms are linked to the coins?" She inquired curiously, leaning forward on her pillowed section, pale digits pushing into the soft cotton contents. Eating a coin to gain it's properties?! How marvelous! Was this something they could use as they plotted to our her attacker? Her brain hums with possibilities while she awaits his reply, casting casual and polite glances to those other dancers that pass and twirl on the floor. Luckily, she was not a dramatic dancer and hadn't done any notable twirls or falls to test the Frost Giant's skill. She was more interested in science and magic; how things worked. Secrets and plotting the future of her government.

Hureig had never wanted a cushioned seat more than he did now, and when Reginae guided him over to one? Well, she became his own personal savior, or at least the savior of his feet. "Good exercise indeed," He replied, his words as windless as his lungs. He was famished for water, and only after seeing Reginae pluck a flute from a server did he follow suit. He swept his giant hand over the entire platter, taking in one fell swoop every flute the poor server had with her. Dehydration and his race's giant mammoth portions had most of them drunk before coins and charms became the topic of discussion. "Would you like to see them?" With a pop of his left forearm, a trio of coins fell into his palm. Faceless, remarkably average, without even the barest hint of attunements or magery. The copper one was held up first, "This one gives me the strength of four frost giants." It was dropped back into his palm, replaced by a silver coin, "This one gives me a keener eye and more solid arm with a sword." The last coin, a gold one, that was just nodded at---he was too fearful of its power to even bring it close to being active. "That gold one...well...I become a behemoth. It's best not to use that one unless it is the most direst of situations." Just the thought of it had him shuffling the coin back up his sleeve. "I am not quite sure how they work, only that they work. They haven't failed met yet!" He laughed his deep, bellow of a laugh. Joyful, joyous, and jovial. That was the natural state of the smiling Frost Giant. "Some can use the powers themselves, though I have let very few try. Woe be to the poor soul who I pay with the behemoth coin by mistake!"

Reginae studied the faces of the coins from a far with keen and interested eyes. Each power is met with an impressed bulging of her eyes, then a fitful and accidental imagination of their damage to his internal organs when consumed...not to mention if he ate all three at once? Madness. "They don't even radiate magic..." She noted, hoping to catch some whiff of enchanting but her senses detected nothing. "It's a shame none of those coins aid with dancing." She teased, sticking out her humanoid tongue in his direction. It's a common misconception that all naga have forked and eradicate tongues. No sir. Not Reginae! She could shift her tongue, a simple task, but troublesome to meet the typical human ideal of what nagas ought to be. His laughter was infectious and the Queen likewise echoed his smile with her own twist. After all, not everyone smiles the same. Indeed her lips pull back with enough mirth to show off her fangs, formerly tucked under the neat line of her upper lip, painted with some muted mauve for the occasion. "I dare say I'm grateful that you found your way here. It's always nice to have guests with such lively spirits and I think you are the liveliest guest I've had the pleasure of entertaining." She sighs, leaning back onto her cushion, the white tip of her tail swishing lazily against the polished floor. "Are you anxious to return home or are you finding Alithrya hospitable in most circumstances?" The rumors about attacks on tourists were growing louder since the assassination attempt. Reginae wants to make sure he hasn't become the subject of some punk naga group's torment.

the depth of his astonishment served another of his traits: even the little things that many did not think of at all marveled him. "The next time we dance, I will paint to match. I don't have any fangs like yours, but these two teeth here..." Perhaps they weren't fang-length to a Frost Giant, but the canine he tapped with his index finger certainly was close to the same length as Reginae's. "I will say it is in solidarity, but between you and I..." He dipped his head a bit and brought it to a conspirator's distance, "I hope it will make me a twelfth as handsome as you are beautiful. Aramoth knows my race wasn't blessed with beauty!" He laughed his Hureig laugh, though his mood dimmed quiet out of respect when the Queen gave him her gratitude. It fell into complete seriousness when she spoke of anxiety and home; Aramoth knows he feels the weight of his absence from Queen, Country, and Duty like a boulder on his shoulders with each day away an incline of the road he walked, but in the presence this other Monarch. "Alithrya is hospitable for all my circumstances. In fact, I am indebted to you for all of your doings. 'Fairness is the balance we lay our lives upon.' Some old, corrupt merchant once told me that. It did not stick with him, but it has with me all these years. No. I cannot leave your service until I have made the balance fair." There was no deception in the Frost Giant’s face: no hint of hiding or holding back, no malice or deception in his smile-crinkled eyes. “Though, I do not know how many Naga dances I would survive. Perhaps our next date could be something less exertive…like battle!”

Reginae quirked a snowy brow in the Frost Giant's direction. "Paint to match?" She repeated, confused. If it was a colloquialism, she did not understand. Now he's pointing at his teeth and her look of bewilderment deepens. She leaned forward to receive whatever secret Hureig was about to offer her, only to huff at this compliment with a genuinely flustered expression that she played off as amusement. His laughter inspired a few dancers to look their direction, and Reginae politely covered her own mouth with her pale hands to shield her mouth from view. She's on the tail of her laughter when his expression turns stoic and her shoulders tense. "Aramoth guide us." She whispered, a call and response akin to some religious factions. Her gaze caught him then, holding on Hureig in it's intense path. "Your service is in surviving but...Since we have a moment to spare I'd like to bring up something you mentioned when last we had the pleasure of an extended exchange. About hiring an assassin?" She quickly looks over her shoulder, making sure no one is within ear shot of their conversation. A grin inspired by his outburst about battle instead of dancing. She's completely missed the implication that this was a date of any sort. "I'd like you to find someone. Someone willing to carry out the assassin in a different way..." Her pupils dilate, cutting her azurite eyes with it's inky vertical presence. "I'd like to find a way to...fake my death." She says, her voice tinted with the slightest shade of excitement.

Hureig was stilled when she brought up their previous exchange, so much so that he stopped in mid laugh. It was not because he had got a shiver up his skirt that raised his moral hackles, though. What stopped him were the eyes, the ears, the Naga driving close in the ritual dance and how the same pair never seemed to come around. Too many variables. Too many opportunities for hint to be heard by anyone whose hearing was estimated. Propriety be damned! He had to stop her before she said too much---he threw his index finger across her lips too late...and more than likely would cause a stir by that mere fact alone. 'Frost Giant Shushes the Queen.' The tales that would be passed from ear to ear! "This is not the place to discuss these things." His brow furrowed and his eyes went hard from seriousness. "It can be done. Quite easily in fact. All we will need is some substance that will put you in a coma, get it in you, and then just..." He let his thin shoulders roll in a nonchalant shrug, and it was at this moment he removed his now mauve stained finger from her lips. "Easy enough. Get the substance that can get through your skin. I'll slather it on a piece of your jewelry. I'll have the assassin deliver it to you. Simple." And by the way he spoke it so casually and so easily, as though it were little more than just taking a walk through some underwater arborium...It is only his cheerful and honest demeanor that would keep anyone from asking how many times he had done this sort of mission.

Reginae was not paying much attention to her lipstick or the atmosphere. Though she was of high rank here, dancing partners had to concentrate on their surroundings in a fashion that wouldn't allow them to overhear AND continue their flawless motions. One stumble or misstep and Reginae would instantly know they'd been caught. The music continues, pairs of naga spinning by in elaborate silks and jewelry. Find a way with a piece of Jewelry...of course. "A Coronation Ball." She whispered thoughtfully and then, just as quickly, she shifts her eyes to the dance floor and laughs some noticeable laugh that draws the attention of those nearby with curious eyes and ears. It could work. "Hureig, I fear I've exhausted myself with all this dancing and now I'm light headed. Would you be so kind as to escort me back to my chambers?" A meaningless excuse for them to take their leave." Only now does she notice his finger, smeared with her lips prints. "You have a little something just there..." She points, smirking at his mauve digit, like that's all they'd ever been talking about.

The Frost Giant followed Reginae's lead despite his trepidation; if she wasn't worried about the eyes and ears, he wouldn't either. When she laughed, he laughed. When she smiled, he smiled. He didn't have to mimic her weariness, for she had worn him out with the dance long before then. "I heard tell there was an attempt on your life," He said as he rose, as he found his unsteady feet steady, and as he offered an arm for her to take. "I will need something of the assassin to help tie this knot." He could be quiet when he needed and a blowhorn when he wanted, and at this moment he was a quiet as a church mouse...or whatever sneaky rodents that plague the Naga kingdom. "Oh?" He looked down to his finger and the lipstick upon it. This little thing that would require even less to fix had the Frost Giant stumped. But a thought came to him, one that lit up his eyes and had his teeth bared in a bright smile. He ran his finger across his lips, applying as much of the lipstick to his own as would come off the digits. "There. Now we match. Shall we go?"

Reginae wonders if this is what he meant by 'painted to match' and grinned wildly. The lipstick was meant for pale skin tones and delicate features and yet Hureig is making quick work of that stereotype. " We're twins," she called out, no need to be secret with that exclamation. To the matter of an assassination... "I'll leave that in your hands. Find someone worthy, and we can make it worth their home." a passing couple waved at Reginae and her companion. The Naga didn't miss a beat returning the wave and an innocent smile. They weren't talking about killing anyone, nope! "I'll check in with Muzo to see if it's something he can do." Aramoth be praised, was there anything that scientist couldn't do? The Frost Giant was now in a very delicate position. He could easily betray Regi if he wished but she had a hunch that wasn't on his radar. How did he feel about hiring an assassin? "Is that something you are comfortable with?" She added as she moves to stand and lead him towards the Water gardens and out of the dancing and music.

Hureig was a very pragmatic Frost Giant. The who's and the how's were his forte, but he rarely stopped to consider the why in any great detail. It was for that reason that the Frost Giant remained silent and deeply pensive while they walked. The question was a heavy one, and it took great thought from the Giant. His levels of thought could be seen by any and all: the brows furrowed in deep concentration, his fingers stroked his jaw in deeper concentration, his fingers scratched the same jaw at an even deeper level of concentration, and the last nirvana-esque level came with a lick of his lips. It was the lipstick, that terrible, tart-y flavored concoction, that brought him back to the present and had him holding back a gag. "You would think they'd make something you put on your lips taste a little better..." He tried to joke, though in his still contemplative manners it fell quite flat. "If it were a true assassination, I would be a little apprehensive. It would take quite a bit of nefariousness for me to decide it was time to murder someone. Besides, if I wanted someone dead, then I would just kill them myself in glorious combat!" Not in his current, nearly winded state from their walk. But in another time with a few coins in his gut! "I have heard kind men say 'the only way to fight a mean person is to get mean right back.' But, that must be a human trait. I do not feel you must stoop to your enemy's level to do away with your enemy. What you ask me to do does not compromise any of my morals." Hureig was pleased when the heavy air of the ballroom, thick with both Naga, music, and smells, gave way to the more serene water gardens. It cleared his head and kept him from falling into a rambling rut. His smile returned, and the light in his eyes returned from its introspective smoldering. "We are not becoming what we fight, nor are we fighting what we are becoming. We are still who we are, and we play our matches accordingly."

Reginae keeps pace with the Frost Giant, the smooth motion of her tail twisting to match his foot falls. She listens for a while, content to hear his thought process after the silence. In time, she nods, slivers of spider silk hair falling against her cheeks for her to push away and behind her humanoid ears. It's an important part of fighting, she'd learned, to remain true to who you are in the process of dispatching your enemies. "If they change you, they win." Her voice carries in the garden, but there are none beyond their vision to hear her. "Anything it takes to win, that doesn't compromise your morals. A battle is short, life is long." These weren't new words. Reginae wasn't the first to say so. We are not becoming what we fight, nor are we fighting what we are becoming. We are still who we are. The words play again in her mind, his pensive voice speaking slowly while his eyes lit with confidence. "That is what's most important." Her lips drop, the smile staying but in a more intimate and honest fashion. This was not the Queen smiling. It was Reginae.

Hureig let out little sounds while Reginae was speaking; some where thoughtful hums while others were meant just to say 'I am listening.' "I try to stay out of the quagmire of morality," He answers as honest and warm as he had been the entire time. "That is why I keep to ledgers, lines, promissory notes, and handshakes. Commerce is simple. Markets are even more so. Don't let any merchant fool you; markets are nothing but people. There is no unseen hand that moves wants and whims from market to market. Some people have fruits and need iron tools, another group has iron tools and needs fruits. When they trade with one another, both are better off." They walked, and despite the exertion of walking and talking, he could not bring himself to end either. "Fairness. Fairness leads to every other moral principle, good or bad. That's why a 'fair deal' is the most important principle. Deal fairly with your kind and kin, with the goons and gods, and all will be balanced. A fair deal is why I am helping you. You treated me, but you there was an attempted assassination on your life. We should repay your enemies in kind...for fairness." He tapped his large finger on the side of his nose and smiled. But there was something more there, something his mischievous grin and sardonic gaze. Beyond fealty and fairness, beyond righting wrongs who tried to wrong rights. There was a depth there, and one that kept him from looking at the Naga for too long for fear of falling… “Damn.”

And he fell.