RP:Finding Familiarity at a Fundraiser

From HollowWiki

 Summary: Sneaking off from a fundraiser for the displaced families of Schezerade, Uriphiel gets to know Brennia a little better.

Date of Writing: March 7th, 2021. 










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Finding Familiarity at a Fundraiser


 Jubilant Garden, Schezerade
The first thing you’ll notice about this garden is its enormous size and the myriad of pleasant scents that waft from it. It has to be the largest constructed garden in Schezerade, and is hexagonal in shape. Flowers of every colour, type and scent blossom here; with lavender and dahlias being the most predominant of them all. Medicinal herbs also take up residence in small hidden patches as well. Fruit trees line six sides of the garden, while large white bee boxes line the other three, with bees buzzing in and out gathering food, and in turn pollinating the beautiful garden. In its centre is a marble fountain, upon which is centred a finely crafted glass phoenix that water spurts out of in a fine mist. The fountain also has various koi carp swimming at the bottom, amongst the roots of lily pads and lotus flowers that are pounced on by frogs. Small stone pathways are placed around flowerbeds so one won’t step on the delicate flowers of this clearly well taken care of garden, and some sport stone benches for one to relax and just let the day go on by.



  • Brennia stands under one of the many firefly lit canopies placed around the garden in a small group of smartly dressed attendees, Hinder being one of them, but she doesn't look too bad herself. The choice in attire reveals that her tattoo pattern does nearly cover all of her caramel toned skin as the V cut in the romper goes down to her waist and is the same in the back, but her wings are covering that up. Tonight she looks a bit more radiant as the feathers to her velvety wings look so dark they could be the night skies with stars glittering within them and her long hair has been pulled up into a rustic updo which has many little curly strands dropping down from it. Her makeup isn't much different than earlier in the day, but she does have a bold burgundy color painted on her shapely lips and when she smiles it makes her perfect teeth look extra white. The bard is using the little charm she has left to do that very thing to all the attendees and every once in a while her solid teal gaze scans the crowd as she pretends to take a sip of her champagne. When people aren't looking, she simply pours some out in some nearby grass. Corvo is milling about somewhere while logging the donations they are acquiring with the names next to whatever amount they gave, but some do wish to remain anonymous. The hand not holding onto a champagne flute idly fidgets with the matching navy blue sash loosely tied around her waist, but she remembers that Corvo reprimanded her about that earlier and instead shoves her hand in her pocket as she fake laughs at a stuffy businessman's joke. The sun continues to lower over the horizon and the firefly lights glow brilliantly against the darkness that is slowly creeping over the event. Brennia knows she should try not to be on 'autopilot' so often lately, but she cannot help it sometimes. She debates how she can slip away for just a moment and starts devising a plan in the back of her mind while she continues to schmooze guests.


  • Uriphiel did not arrive with a smile upon his face. Generally, this was not an unusual thing. The Shar was quite known to have a stern mentality, often keeping his more jovial side reserved for those in his inner circle, or those who were invited to Schezerade as business guests. Still, tonight’s bitter mood was thanks to a combination of mishaps that one could swear was the result of some sort of malicious curse. He had been invited to this fundraiser on short notice, which meant that he had to arrange a meeting with the local tailors to find an appropriate set of attire. Before he could even do this, he first needed to bathe, because earlier in the day he had flubbed an experiment so badly that it left him caked in a layer of mud that just seemed to get in places that he hadn’t expected. It must have taken the poor man at least an hour just to get clean. To make that task even more difficult, it had turned out that the bathhouse had run out of wood to heat the water, so he had to clean himself with water so cold that he swore that his swaying bits had ascended into his torso. Then, once he had finally managed to get himself clean, the tailor’s stock was not all too accommodating for a man of his stature. The pants were tight in the waist. The jacket, two inches too short on his arms. His shoes were a half size smaller, meaning that he would be in discomfort for most of the evening. Like dominoes, one problem escalated to the next. Yet, he promised to attend - And he never broke his promise. So, he made his entrance, in a navy blue jacket and trousers, with a silver-embroidered waistcoat atop an off-white dress shirt. His tie matched his suit, while his pocket square was matched with his waistcoat. His shoes, well polished and light brown. He didn’t look too bad outside of the minor deficiencies. The Shar garnered a mixed reception as he made his way among the guests; Those of an elder status looked upon him with condemnation, unhappy that the man was attempting to overthrow the decadent comfort they’d grown accustomed to over recent years. The youth, however, were more than happy to greet the man, seeing him as a beacon for positive change. “Hello there. Hi. Hope all is well. Nice to see you, too,” he said, addressing various partygoers. When a waiter stopped him to offer a selection of wine and champagne, Uriphiel quickly reached for a glass of red and continued his search for the woman that had invited him. When he finally found the raven-winged avian in the crowd, Uriphiel promptly made his way over for greeting. “I do not know how you do it,” he said, motioning toward the large gathering.


  • Brennia feels herself being pulled into the moment when Uriphiel approaches and successfully taken out of her automatic hosting mode. Her gaze lingers on the sight of Uriphiel in a suit… a navy blue suit at that and yes she’s a little envious that he’s able to look great in anything, but she doesn’t have enough focus to make sure her wings stay completely still when he addresses her. “Welcome, Uriphiel Shar,” she manages to say while her mind spins a little, ‘did he really take what Corvo said in consideration?’ Just when she gets her hopes up a little bit, she recalls that Uri has worn navy blue quite often and Corvo is the one who picked out her outfit for tonight, the sly dog. Surely, if she were wearing literally any other color then they would not be matching and she makes a mental note to scold Corvo later. Slipping into their native tongue, there is humor in her eyes as she says to Uri, “I don’t know either, I look ridiculous.” The dialect we could compare to being French sounds like music on her smoky timbre, but she quickly shifts back out of it so she doesn’t seem rude in front of the others even though being able to talk with someone else in her homeland language gives her a little sense of it. “You look great,” then she makes quick work of introducing him to those around her. “Uriphiel Shar, this is Hinder Windgate, Lori Erael, and Henry Purpitaev with his wife Marguerite. Everyone is Uriphiel Shar,” the others are happy to meet him, Hinder seems to be in better spirits and he gives Uriphiel a grin with a handshake. While everyone is distracted with handshakes and greetings, she slyly pours out the last little bit of her drink. “I am going to track down another drink, if you’ll excuse me,” holding up her empty champagne flute with a slight wiggle. Then she takes a glance at Uriphiel’s drink, “would you help me track one of those down, Uriphiel?” She had plans to head over to the bar, but she wouldn’t mind the company of Uri of course as her heels click on the cobblestone walkways as she steps around him in order to head to the bar. Hopefully Uriphiel is close behind.


  • Uriphiel would have no part of the woman’s diffidence. “On the contrary. You look quite marvelous. Unlike yourself, I failed to plan accordingly and wound up with an outfit not quite to my liking,” he replied in similar dialect, extending an arm to showcase the deficiencies in the length of his jacket. The introduction to the other guests is one that was met with hesitation. He had barely a chance to react when Hinder reached for his hand to give it a shake, so it might have come off a little strange when he took a deep breath through flaring nostrils. He soldiered through, trying to hide his discomfort through a cheerful smile. “Ah yes, Hinder. How are you? I hear that you have thrown your name into the running. Good on you. I look forward to seeing your campaign in the coming weeks.” The Shar turned to the other guests next. “Ah hello, Uriphiel Phandarion. Nice to meet you. I do hope to see you all on election day. Big changes are coming to Schezerade.” When the handshakes were over, Uriphiel discreetly wiped his hands on the back of his pants, wishing for a basin and some soap right about now. Lucky for him, Brennia was in need of a drink, so that would afford him the opportunity to politely excuse himself from having to shmooze the guests any further. “Of course,” he said to the ebon winged avian, bidding the quartet a farewell. “So, is this how these things work? Generous formalities in hopes of garnering donations and support for your cause? Such a strange custom. My time in the Empire has not afforded me many privileges in attending these events, which may actually be a blessing.” There is a hint of a smirk painted on his lips, only to be obscured when the Shar brought the earlier procured glass of wine for a draw.


  • Brennia felt her cheeks warm at his compliment, but only the tips of her long tapered ears turn a little red at his flattery. It isn't like her to blush so easily at comments on her appearance and she chides herself silently for being so shallow, but she couldn't help it due to her growing admiration for Uriphiel and she gets the feeling that he doesn't pay compliments like that often without meaning it. The group of people accept Uri well and excitedly with Henry Purpitaev absolutely beaming, "we have heard so much about you Uriphiel my good man. It's an honor to meet you," but Lori makes no effort to cover her flirtation as she looks the tall handsome Shar up and down before smiling up at him in a sultry manner, "very nice to meet you indeed, Uriphiel. Will your beloved be joining us tonight?" It was her sly way of trying to see if the man is single and if so, she is definitely going to pounce. Brennia isn't liking that at all, but her attention is stolen by the way Uriphiel seems to wipe away contact on his hand with his pants. It finally clicks, he is a germaphobe and it all makes sense now how he seems to recoil from her before. Relief fills her as her wings twitch slightly, but soon they are departing from the group and she gets maybe a second or two of alone time with Uri as they make their way to the bar. "A student of mine made up this solution because they kept getting sick due to their weak immune system," she pulls free a little bottle that is a mixture of rubbing alcohol and aloe with a couple drops of essential oils for scent to offer him some. If he accepts, she structs him to- "hold your hands out," before squeezing out a small amount and then she tells him to, "rub it into your hands." With a deep breath, she nods once to this observation, "yes, this and helping people around town," more than she already does. "A portion of their donations tonight go to one of the families that have been displaced from their home here in Schezerade," her smile spreads and pokes dimples in her cheeks when there is that hint of a smirk on his lips. Setting her empty champagne flute down as she spots a neglected path through the gardens, she says, "I wonder where that leads." Everyone is distracted by Corvo making an announcement on their efforts for tonight so no one would see as Brennia slips her high heels off and waits for Uriphiel to do the same to follow her or simply just follows her. The straps of her heels dangle in her fingers as she steps into the cool grass with her bare feet and she looks back to him with a smile in hopes he will humor her in this mini adventure.


  • Uriphiel slides a golden brow upward and with great reluctance, sat his wine atop the bar and held his hands out. When the strange concoction meets his palms, he looked confused, maybe even a little disgusted. He trusted Brennia, so he did as he was instructed and rubbed the mixture all over his hands, finally taking a sniff once it had been absorbed into his skin. That was a mistake. Despite the essential oils, the smell of alcohol managed to seep through and it caused the man to recoil. “In the name of the Divine Three, what is this?” he asked. As the conversation quickly pivoted, Uriphiel switched his focus, “Well, that is a very noble cause. I am glad to see that efforts are being made to help those that have lost so much, recently. This will be the drive going forward. We will see Schezerade rebuilt into something better. A place that can bring unity to all of Avian blood - young and old.” While he spoke, the Shar had been casually looking around, attention soon falling over Corvo as the announcements began. However, it was quite clear that Brennia had no intentions of sticking around. “Hm? What?” he asked, clearly engrossed in the ongoing speech. When the woman’s words finally broke through, those golden irises flicked in the direction that had been pointed out. “Oh. I don’t really know. I’m not sure I’ve ev-” but he would never finish those words, because his train of thought was cut short when Brennia removes her shoes and starts heading off into the unknown. Uriphiel takes one last look toward the distracted crowd, then follows her lead in kicking off his very uncomfortable shoes, wondering where the path ahead would lead them.


  • Brennia goes to protest him sniffing his hands so soon after rubbing the solution in, but she’s too late and he will find the smell dissipates quite fast thanks to the essential oils, “it helps remove unwanted germs from your hands, Uri.” Corvo is just handing boring stuff and recognizing the big wigs so they won’t be missing much of anything. The path they take is lined with a beautiful array of flowers, trees and bushes, but not so much that they feel blocked in. Now that they are alone, she comfortably switches to speaking in their native language “sometimes I like to just hide away for a few minutes during these things. It’s kind of like taking a social break,” she pauses a moment to caress the petals of an azalea growing on one of the bushes. “These are such pretty flowers, they look like little Pom-poms or those cute little balls on the tops of winter hats,” a soft and short raspy chuckle follows. “Do you happen to have a favorite flower?” It’s not usual for men to think on such things, but Uri is far from usual and she smiles at him. Once he answers or changes the subject, her bare feet meander further down the path and it winds one way before opening up into a small clearing with a marble backless bench. “How wonderful,” she sighs out as fireflies naturally light the area as they lazily flutter around and then she sits on one side of the bench in case Uri decides to join her. When she looks up to take stock of the stars, she finds it a little hard to do as some clouds have floated a bit higher than usual, but she doesn’t think anything of it. “I miss the white sands of the beaches on Vere and year round hot days. The crystal clear waters and comfortable humidity, but the times we talk like this… I can get glimpses of it all again.” Her wings shift a little as the noise from the fundraiser doesn’t reach as far as they are and she realizes that they are alone for the first time in a long while. Then her gaze lingers on the way his suit doesn’t quite fit and she asks a question that’s been nagging her, “did you choose that suit because of what Corvo said about what I would be wearing tonight?” I mean, if this color was too small, he could have easily swapped it out for literally any other. Usually couples dress in a matching color scheme and she knew that’s exactly why Corvo brought it up earlier.


  • Uriphiel hadn’t felt the touch of grass upon his bare feet for so very long; Not since he was a care-free youth in more golden times. In fact, it was quite rare for him to even be afforded such a chance to just relax with the ability to soak in a quiet evening away from the prying eyes of the military barracks. It really was a lovely stroll. The decorative flora along the path held his attention, and almost caused him to miss what Brennia had said. “I understand,” he replied, once the words had finally sunk in. “It can become overwhelming at times. Especially in work that keeps one in the public eye. A moment to step away, to collect one’s thoughts - it’s important to find the time to reflect.” No sooner had his words fallen into silence did the Shar find himself faced with that very notion of reflection. “I have many favorites,” he stated. “I have favourite foods. And favourite drinks. Favourite weapons. Favourite seasons. Favourite training locations.” There is a pause for a smile; The blonde-haired avian seemingly impressed with his own attempts at humour. “And yes, I do in fact have a favourite flower. The last I can recall, it had been decidedly the Lily. Long ago, there was a merchant that traveled far and wide, and he peddled a variety of interesting things from lands unknown. The most fascinating of his wares was a rare lily, with the most wonderful shade of blue in its petals. I have not seen anything like it, since.” Despite having established his favourite flower, Uriphiel took the time to admire the azaleas, asking the same question back to Brennia. “And you? Do you have a flower that has gained your favour?” When the woman decided it was a good time to venture along the path, Uriphiel wasted no time following, soon seating himself upon the marble bench in the same direction. “It must be hard - Being so far from home. I too long for this sentiment. To be ‘home’. Perhaps, one day, when things in Schezerade have calmed, we can visit your home. I would love to see this Vere for myself. If our connection is one that is as plausible as we suspect, then I would like to see what has become of the place that I too once called home.” The eyes of gold are lifted, settling on the strange gathering of clouds that have filled the skies. How odd, he thought to himself. It was quite unusual for such formations to be so high above the city. Perhaps the city had descended at some point. It wasn’t out of the ordinary for the floating cities of yesteryear to change altitudes depending on the weather. This perceptive train of thought was interrupted when Brennia posed a more personal line of questioning. “As I said. I have many favourites. My favourite color is blue, if it had not been made obvious by my general attire. From the delicate, faded hues of the ageless sky, to the dark abyssal shades of the fathomless oceans. It is a color of calm. And, of power. I liken it to water - which is a very deceptive thing. We drink it to be sustained. We bathe in it to rejuvenate. In small doses, it is a thing of comfort, harmless in many ways; And yet, it can topple entire kingdoms given the right set of conditions.” Uriphiel finally tears his gaze from the skies above, focusing now upon the teal eyes of his companion. “I did not entirely choose it to match, no. Not that the idea hadn’t been planted by your wonderfully shameless friend - I was, in fact, aware. It was simply the most elegant set of clothing that the shop had in their inventory, and sadly, the closest of a fit that they had at the ready. It appears that I may be a little larger than what the local tailor is used to fitting.”


  • Brennia brightens at the mention of lilies and her smile widens at Uri’s humor, “I do -love- white calla lilies. They are simple and elegant looking,” and far from what the bard looks like with that tattoo pattern covering most of her skin save for her hands, feet and face, but also her solid teal gaze as if cobalt blue and most green had mixed harmoniously to create such an odd color. Her dark wings are a bit larger than avians her size and her skin tone is unique here, but common on the island she comes from. The more they talk in their first dialect, the more she feels relaxed and less tense, but what avian wouldn’t be tense around Uri. He’s attractive, yes, but vastly wise and intimidating in stature. “My favorite flower?” She thinks on how to describe it, “where I come from, it’s referred to as Jade Vine. These beautiful bright blue or green petals grow upward on a hanging vine and almost look like claws, but most impressive is their ability to be spotted at night because the petals of the plant nearly seem to glow. I don’t think I’ve ever seen the Jade vine in Lithrydel and I figure it must grow best in tropical weather.” When they recall home, she nods and crosses one of her long legs over the other, “at times I do, but I miss the past because ever since my parents and little brother were murdered, there isn’t anything left for me at island Vere.” Brennia spent many years mourning her family and is in a healthier place with it all these days as she lives on to honor them in any capacity she can. “This is my home now,” she looks around them before landing her gaze back up at him, “but I would love to show you the homeland one day, yes.” She let out a soft raspy chuckle as he mentions his favorite color, “I think I -may- have picked up on that at some point, but you wear it well. So,” with a shrug she continues to listen to his feelings on the color blue, “I never looked at it that way… I actually used to have true blue eyes.” That was a long story for another time perhaps. Brennia cannot help but feel a little disappointed, but she already suspects as much and kindly replies, “well of course. Avians are tall and built, but not quite as tall or as built as you are, Uri. I’m going to have to have a talk with Corvo. Just to tell him to maybe focus more on the campaign instead of this wild notion of a… what did he call it? ‘Power couple’, not that I’d mind, but I don’t even think we have discussed our significant others before,” they’ve had a couple of meaningful conversations and the subject never shifted that way. As they sit together and relax, the sensitive receptors from the feathers on her wings pick up a feeling of something else that is soft and she glances over her shoulder to see her wing resting against his, but quickly folds it away so not to have them touch, “I’m so sorry. I understand you don’t respond well to other people’s touch,” she politely considers his preference on the matter and sits up a little straighter as if about to say something. It is probably about time they head back because he probably doesn’t want rumors spreading about them, but just as she was about to suggest it, if the skies open up and a steady rainfall pours down over them in fat cool droplets. She doesn’t fret about her hair, makeup or outfit getting wet and is simply awe struck in silence. The sound of raindrops slapping onto the leaves of trees and flowers around them is surprisingly relaxing. Her mascara runs just a little and her hair starts to coil up in tight curls, but she makes no effort to move yet as her eyes narrow to look up at the skies. No lightning or threat of thunder as the clouds simply douse the party, sending the attendees to surely make their way out and suddenly Brennia isn’t in a hurry to get back anymore as she lets out a short raspy giggle.


  • [Uriphiel] Those uncomfortable leather shoes that had been carried were placed under the bench; It was quite unlikely that avian would bother to reclaim them by the evening’s end. While expensive, they just simply did not fit. Maybe someone in need would find them. “I really hope to find comfort as you have, here. I do suppose that all this effort, all this work - it has to be for something worthwhile. It’s just difficult to accept that everything I knew, all that I loved, is lost to the cruel hand of time,” the Shar said. He leaned forward to rest his forearms on his knees when the topic switched to more intimate matters. “Ah yes, Corvo. An interesting fellow, really. A little too forward for my tastes, but he seems to have your best interests in mind. I am uncertain as to how he thinks this ‘power couple’ idea would work, however. Generally, both parties would have some sort of renown. While my popularity with the people of Schezerade has grown in recent times, I am hardly a man of fame. There are many that still doubt my claims. Many that wish to see me fail. And to those of the kingdoms below? I am just another warrior from the floating city. It seems like such an absurd notion to suggest.” There is a pause, a moment for reflection, before Uriphiel addresses the later portion of that thought. “There has not been much to discuss, really. Not on my behalf. Most of my life I went without any sort of romantic interest. Life under the Empire is one that could end without notice. It is stressful, not only on the shim, but their families as well. Sure, there have been passing fancies. Perhaps something a little more serious at one point.” A huff of air is pushed out of the man’s nose and his next pause takes a little more time than before. “Those days are gone. My focus now is on rebuilding the Empire.” Finally sitting upright, Uriphiel seemed indifferent when her wing brushed against his, quickly pushing away her considerate concerns. “It’s fine. You are not a dirty person - I’m certain.” There is a hint of mirth in his voice and a sly grin pulls at the corner of his lips. Although, the teasing is soon cast away when the sound of outcry cuts through the silent city; The sudden downpour obviously came as a great surprise to the party guests not too far away. “Unless Corvo has something up his sleeve, I would say that the fundraiser has come to its conclusion,” he said with a gentle chuckle. It had been quite some time since Uriphiel experienced rain in an avian city, so he closed his eyes and lifted his head, allowing the torrent to wash away his worries.


  • Brennia continues to smile softly up at Uriphiel, "yeah, you said so before, but he and I can see you're going places, Uri. You're just…" suddenly feeling a little nervous and at a loss of words, "well. You're inspirational and so many look up to you already," she swallows hard before admitting, "I know I do. I have to apologize for his suggestion again, especially a ridiculous scheme with the likes of me. It's quite indecent to suggest such a thing without taking the two parties into consideration. I mean, my partner is non monogamous, but I don't think she would continue on with a married woman." It is Brennia's first time mentioning Zahrani around Uriphiel and she realizes something about herself, something she will have to come clean about. Her brow knits together at the elaboration to his love life and once there is a moment to mention anything, she says, "you can have it all if you really wished, Uri. Someone will come along who proudly accepts and supports your efforts without question, but also understands the possible outcomes and knows that the risk is worth taking with you. Whoever convinces you to take that chance will be one lucky woman or man," she doesn't know his preferences and isn't about to make an ass of herself for assuming.

    Brennia simply sits on the bench with Uri and enjoys the cool raindrops and hums out a soft, "mmhmm," in agreement to his conclusion before closing her eyes and tilting her chin up to the skies. Eventually the rain brings out something buried deep within her mind that is always there in the background every second of every day, "about what you said before when you mentioned the cruel hand of time, in a way… I can relate to what you feel about accepting this reality. You see," she takes a deep breath and doesn't have to raise her voice in order to speak over the soft roar of the raindrops making contact with the surfaces around them due to their closeness. "I had died right as my campaign was really starting out four years ago, but I won't go into the how and I know the Flewminati were not involved," it is hard to describe what the ink on her skin really in because there hasn't been even a hint of it being active anymore. "There had always been a separate piece of a soul trapped within me and for a time she took over. I guess she 'saved my seat' so to speak, but I never thought I was coming back and I had been at peace. Wherever I was, it was warm and pleasant, but I also had a sense I was with my lost loved ones," her fingers curl around the edge of the bench and she feels a vice clench around her heart. "Suddenly, I had been pulled back from what I feel was a paradise and came back to this… place," her voice doesn't waver and thanks to the rain, her silent tears get washed away as quickly as they could form. "Sometimes I never really feel like I belong anywhere," no matter how hard she tries.


  • [Uriphiel] “How peculiar,” he said, maintaining his position of welcome toward the flow of rain. He hadn’t meant to avoid her strained admission of praise, but learning of the arrangement between her and her newly revealed partner was something that held his interest quite firmly. “Non-monogamy? I find this notion strange. How does such a relationship work, then? It is not my intention to meddle in your affairs, but I must call attention to the words you used - they seem to carry weight. You did not say that ‘we’, in reference to you and your partner, are non-monogamous, but rather, that ‘she’ is the one to hold the mantle. Is this not a mutual agreement, or do I misunderstand?” Yet, this was not the most unusual revelation to come out this evening. As he listened on, the Shar found himself in a state of shock when Brennia finally admitted her experience with what he perceived to be the afterlife. “You were dead?!” he asked in a bewildered tone. His head had promptly snapped in her direction, golden gaze wide as he looked the woman over. She did not look like one that had recently risen from the grave. She certainly wasn’t a vampire, a ghoul, a wraith, or anything else of an unholy nature. To have been in a place of comfort, a place of peace, one would have to have crossed the threshold of no return. “How?... How is it that you live once more? Pardon my profound surprise, but my only experience with those having risen from the dead is one that involved terrifying necromancers and an evil unlike any other.” Uriphiel fell silent for a moment; Just one single moment to contemplate his wording. When he had something in mind, he spoke with calm, “Perhaps, this is where you are meant to be. You have been to a place from which many do not return. By some unknown power, you were blessed with passage back to the realm of mortals. Conceivably, as much as I hate to lend credence to the idea, this might be the will of fate.” Uriphiel stopped here, taking some time to reflect on the idea. It wasn’t all too long ago that he himself had once more returned to the land of the living, although not through death, but of a torment much more unimaginable. He thought back to that pivotal moment, that sliver of hope, as the golden rift made itself known. Could there be a connection?


  • Brennia simply replied on her relationship with Zahrani, “it’s new to me as well. All I can offer is, we have love for eachother and romance, but we are not exclusive. The entire society of the Isran Collective is not monogamous. Maybe one day I will desire a commitment, but it is unfair to expect that from her, so I do not.” The bard finally tilts her head down a little, away from the skies and opens her eyes as her wings shift in the uncomfortable sorrow it brings her to remember her death. “Yes, I don’t understand the length of time I was there and it’s all a jumble to me now,” she starts while chancing a glance over at him as there is a fear he is starting to look at her in unfavorable light. “How? That, I am not entirely sure about, Uri. I have speculated that it has a great deal to do with my tattoos. On Vere, almost everyone has them and they indicate what prominent families they are from or what ranks they hold in societies,” she had already told him that she was to become the Countess to rule over Vere before she ran away, so it’s safe to assume that is why her tattoo pattern is so intricate and practically covers all of her skin. “My father was a power hungry man and he went on this great conquest to find rare ingredients for my ink work, but the only people who knew about it were the tattoo artificiem and the court bard, Raven… who he eventually had exiled or put to death to ensure his secrets. Raven was clever and tried to transfer her powers to me when I was a child, but what she didn’t realize was, doing so left me with a part of her soul.” It has been a while since she told this story and she’s trying to make it make sense to him the best way she can, “my father counted on our bloodline's ‘awakening’, which is something else I wasn’t warned about, where we finally come into our own power to activate the ink. He was right. I was here in this new land with no idea of what was happening to me and I tried everything to keep the ink in subdued while fearing what it was doing. I used alcohol, certain herbs and… people back then in attempts to run away from the problem. Come to find out, Raven’s soul merged with the ink’s activation during my bloodline’s awakening and she was hell bent on revenge, although we eventually came to an understanding with each other. We became more like companions and she was quite protective of me. It must have taken a lot from her remaining power to keep this vessel going until my soul returned. As to what force or power had called my soul to return, that I do not know and it would be nice to believe that fate had some grand plan for me, but it just feels cruel.” Suddenly, Brennia is exposed emotionally and vulnerable after revealing such a horrible secret about herself, she stands as the slight chill of the rain starts to settle. Wrapping her arms around her waist and she can’t bring herself to look at him in this moment, fixing her watery gaze on the path they came from instead. “It is too dangerous to fly in this heavy rain, Uri. If you’d rather not walk all the way across town back to the barracks in this weather, you’re welcome to wait out the rain at the college.”


  • [Uriphiel] “I see,” Uriphiel said, pressing no further into the relationship of the ebon-winged avian and her mysterious lover. If they were satisfied with the arrangement, who was he to question it. Instead, he placed his attention upon the more intriguing matter. Like Brennia, Uriphiel did have a host of tattoos, although they were fewer in number and well hidden by his general attire. In his youth, he opted for simplicity, rather than the often intricate and involved patterns of his ancestors. Unlike Brennia, his tattoos were merely a matter of displayed pride, and not something that held some sort of supernatural ability. Her story, while fantastical, elicited a furrowed brow and a single nod in understanding. “It sounds like you have been through quite the ordeal. I can understand why you may still have reservations about being back among the living. While the concept of fate is one that is enigmatic, something that will never be known, I think that if such a thing exists, it has indeed crossed our paths with purpose. A purpose to unite our people, and to bring change; To usher in a new dawn for the Avian Empire.” This was his best effort in trying to lift the woman’s spirits, while making sense of the strange time that he found himself in. When Brennia’s discomfort became quite apparent, and her arms wrapped around her torso, Uriphiel would jump to the assumption that she was cold. He reached backward and unfastened the clasps that kept his jacket held firm around his wings, politely sliding it over the bard’s shoulders soon after. The pounding rain soaked the white dress-shirt that he wore, allowing anyone observant enough their first glimpse at the thick, black, tribal tattoos that trailed along his upper arms, and the visible portions of his chest that the waistcoat didn’t cover. “Very well. I think a cup of tea is quite warranted. And a snack.” The Shar held one hand out, gesturing for Brennia to lead the way.


  • Brennia Brennia is surprised as she feels his jacket get draped over her shoulders and the garment which is small on his stature appears to nearly swallow the smaller woman up. Tucking some of her wet curly hair behind her ear in order to get it out of her eyes as she finally looks back up to him briefly and then she offers in a soft, “thank you.” In truth, she is starting to get cold, but his kind gesture is helping to comfort the bard in more than one way. “You’re right, Uri. Maybe this is a second chance at something else,” it's too easy to paint that picture of happiness on her face once more because she’d been doing it all this time after all. She tries not to stare at the way his tattoos are starting to show through the button-down shirt he’s wearing and instead focuses on the path ahead. Once again, she’s surprised he is deciding not to rush back to the barracks like usual and he’s wanting to even grab some tea. Seems Uri is full of surprises. “I’m sure you must’ve left something that will fit you back there as well as we wait for your clothes to dry by the fire in the main hall,” and secretly she’s glad he’s sticking around for just a little while longer.

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