RP:History Always Repeats Itself

Part of the Rest in Pieces: Vailkrin! Arc

Part of the In Darkness We Trust Arc

This is a Necromancer's Guild RP.

Summary: Everything has finally come to a head once again and Khitti stands up for herself.

House Dragana, Vailkrin

House Dragana is alive. With the living, of all people. Several witches have taken advantage of the necromancer's promise of safety. Some are in the kitchen, mingling with Margret and cooking up something that smells absolutely divine; others linger in the foyer, relaxing and chatting on the settees. A few have confined themselves to their rooms. As for the Lady of the House? She resides in her office presently, a glass dish placed on her desk and a tome open beside it. Larewen stares intently at a chunk of blackened flesh, her attention moving back and forth between the specimen she studies and the book. Fortunately, she seems to have found her body once more.

Khitti entered the house as she often did. Or, used to anyway. She’d not set foot in the house since before her second death. She wore no black today, save for her boots; a midnight blue dress, tighter than usual at the waist, adorned her form and a dusky blue cardigan covered that. She said nothing to no one--no greeting for Margret, nor any of the other house members and witches (most of which she didn’t know anyway)--and made her way to Larewen’s office. Was she actually here? It’s not like she could tell anymore. There was enough dark magic in the house to make her sensitivity to such go haywire, but she no longer had that sense of smell to be able to place whether or not the owner was present. She’d knock, and if Larewen was to reply, she’d open the door and that redhead with her ever familiar not-at-all-pleased stare would pass through the door frame.

Larewen calls out before she looks up, "Enter." It isn't until Khitti does that the woman's attention shifts from the chunk of necrotic flesh she studies. That expresion... Yep, Larewen knows it a bit too well by this point. The scarred woman's brow furrows. She scans her mind, seeking desperately to try and remember something she's not sure she's forgotten, and she says as much with, "Did I forget something again?" As she speaks, her gaze sweeps over the woman, taking note of the change from black to blue and that tightness, too. Immediately, her gaze checks to make sure the room is secure, though she knows full well it is. If Khitti were to turn, she'd realizie that two guards stood inside the room with them, flanking the door. Judging by the colors they bear on their plate armor, they are two of House Dragana's soldiers.

“Only the same thing you’ve forgotten time and time again: me.” Khitti wasn’t deterred by the guards. Thankfully for Larewen, the tightness of her dress was due to her pregnancy and the fact that she was no longer a hundred and twenty pound strip of nothingness. “Once again, your delusions of grandeur have swayed you from promises you’ve made. Not only have you forgotten about me, but the guild suffers as a result. You’ve brought conflict where it should not be. You have endangered me, my family, and others because you want everything. You want power. You want glory. And you’re pissed because the other Houses will not allow you to do so, so easily. Because you think you have this right.” Pause. The expression on her features did not fade and, in fact, grew worse (if that was even possible). “And, I’ve heard tell that Emrith was in your company. He may not have been seen outright, at the execution in Larket, but did he really think that something so simple as black dye would cover up what his dragon looked like? Countless times has that dragon been seen by those that fought within the Warrior’s Guild or by their side. Surely, he must be an idiot to think it wouldn’t be noticed.”

Larewen sits back in her chair, waiting for Khitti to finish her tirade before she gives one simple shake of her head. "You saw first hand what the Houses did, and yet you think I'm deluded? They are paying for their sins, and I didn't come to you and tell you this -because- I wanted to keep you safe," she replies. "I want justice. For once in my miserable existence, I am avenging those that could not protect themselves; I am providing safe haven to innocents, and you wish to come in here on a tirade because it's not going the way you might have imagined it? This is ridiculous, Khatja. You've endangered yourself by daring to come here, so close to a civil war, in the state you're presently in." Then, Khitti mentions Emrith and the elf's features tighten. So much for keeping up appearances. "I did not know he was there until everyone else did. He masked his smell, his signature, everything - and he paid for it dearly later." She does not deny his company, though she still might have. Why? She sees no point in lying to the red-haired woman. Larewen sighs, looking back down to the flesh from Gilwen's hand. "If things were as you think they are, do you truly believe the man that tried to kill me would be willingly at my side?"

Khitti sneered at Larewen as she made her excuses known. “You couldn’t write? You have your body now and may leave freely without the hindrances that come with being a ghost. Freely enough to go to Larket. And what were to happen if you were attacked by the other Houses there, hm? My family is just as much there as they are in Cenril. You promised to teach me, even after the civil war started and have once again failed to keep your promise, just as you did two years ago. I did not ask for much and yet here I am. As for Emrith, with the way you spoke about him, I’m almost certain you -would- return to him, Larewen, even though I almost died to save you.” Khitti crossed her arms over her chest, “And, my present state is none of your concern. I had thought that you would perhaps help me with the things that have come with it, for I’d traded one curse for another, but it’s become apparent to me that my path will lead me elsewhere. I am here to tell you that I am not only removing myself from your House entirely, but from the guild as well. I will come and go in this town as I like, for one of my many jobs are here, but I will not be a part of your war.”

Larewen opens her mouth to speak, to defend not writing, but Khitti's final words strike her in a place she does not expect pain. Her features twist, echoing that feeling, but she does not speak. Instead, she refuses to lift her gaze to the woman, much like a child that has been chastised. She prods the chunk of flesh, as if expecting it to move on its own accord, before she says finally, "Very well, Khatja. I wish you the best, and that your life is filled with happiness and joy." Tears sting at the back of her eyes, one even going so far as to snake its way down her cheek. She doesn't acknowledge it, but rather returns to the pages of her tome - Sage is in need of her help, and that is a welcome distraction.

Khitti doesn’t seem affected by Larewen’s tears whatsoever. She herself has cried enough over the woman (something Brand or Lionel could definitely vouch for) and now only anger remained. Things likely would’ve been worse were it not for those guards, though she would not have attacked the woman. Khitti’d not been this angry in quite some time and her mood swings from the pregnancy, for once, had nothing to do with it. Nothing more is said to the Dragana woman. Instead, she steps out into the hallway once more and takes her leave by way of her shadow portals.