RP:Interruption pt. 2

Part of the Surface Tension Arc

Synopsis: After Angwe and Gevurah part ways, Jalynfein follows Gevurah to re-initiate their interrupted conversation. Gevurah is suspicious of him. Laezila travels down the same path, and the Matron and First Daughter delight in insulting and badgering Jalynfein. Throughout this game, Jalynfein reaffirms his desire to serve Gevurah. Gevurah gives him a mission to test his loyalty.

Down-Sloping Tunnel

Jalynfein thanked Vakmatharas that he had gotten leave and moved swiftly down the tunnel back towards where the High Priestess had last been seen. "Mistress." is all he says as she comes into view, dropping to a knee the necromancer keeps his gaze on the floor, "My sister has given me leave to accompany you, should you still require my services."

Gevurah‘s assassins aim their projectiles on Jalynfein as he approaches, which is at this point just a routine exercise in drow greetings. If Jalynfein wanted to do Gevurah harm, he would not approach so loudly. However, the drow relate almost exclusively through the incessant flexing of power, status, and aggression. Gevurah turns her shoulder towards Jalynfein and holds him in her gaze and contempt. “If you think me stupid, say it plainly so I may whet your wit with my whip.” The multiple snakes of her whip writhe against her hip in anticipation, flicking their tongues to indulge in the rotten-sweet taste of fear. “You conspire with your sister, then approach me shortly after and expect me to still have use for you.” She signals to her entourage to lower their aim. “I believed you to have ambitions greater than that of Angwe’s lap dog.”

Laezila moved with the less-than-subtle steps of her heels against the dark floor; she had just had a meeting with the Patron Kuzial in which he spoke of what he desired and how the Matron of the Second House D'l'Sel D'issan could help him achieve that desire by such. She had a quartet of guards that accompanied her; two of which bore the chainmail of drow and the canines of lycanthropism, while the other two had a more lean leather and the elongated eyeteeth of vampirism. All four neither looked pleased nor friendly. The young frame of the 'teenaged' matron moved flanked by them and bearing a white and faceless mask; while her attire was relatively scantily-clad like a rebellious teen, her mask only yielded the sight of icy-hued eyes, turned upon this exchange in curiosity. Low rumbles of growls came from the brutishly large lycan guards, mixed with the hisses of the vampires, but neither pair moved to indicate an attack.

Jalynfein looks up from his kneeling position, "Mistress, if I thought you were stupid I would never have returned, for following someone, even a priestess, that isn't guided by intelligence is a complete death sentence." The arrival of Matron Laezila and her escort cause him to pause for a moment, a dark look crosses his face at the sight of the impure drow, "Mistress," he continues to the D'Artes, "As I have stated she may be a priestess but she is so of the Spider Goddess, you are the strongest voice of my god within the city. I owe more to that." Yes he speaks openly, but having heard of the second Matron's lack of religion and their conversation the other day he knows the consequence, especially since he's being purely sincere. "Besides you know the way of our people, we lie and double deal, trying to fool you would be more effort and need more skill than I possess. If you don't believe me, use your priestly powers to scour my thoughts."

Aggravation blooms in Gevurah’s gut at the sight of Laezila. It just isn’t her day today. The priestess does her best to tame that aggravation off her expression and greet Laezila with a courteous nod. “Matron Laezila, it is my honor to greet you.” The matron of the second house is afforded much more civility than the fourth house’s first daughter, Angwe, was afforded minutes ago - to say nothing of Gevurah’s tolerance of Jalynfein which waxes and wanes. “Shut up, elder boy.” It mostly wanes. Notably her tone lacks its former edge. Jalynfein’s offer to be investigated more thoroughly succeeds in subduing the priestess’s ire. Gevurah does not dress as provocatively as most female drow. Her attire makes no pretense at hiding her gender, but it does cover most of her flesh as it simultaneously hugs it. Her red-glowing gaze follows the fading heat signature in Laezila’s and her lycans’ wake through the darkness, in the direction of House Stavret. “If you were paying a visit to House Stavret, I am curious to know how the Fifth Patron fares. He was badly injured during our encounter with the creature that attacked Trist’oth.”

Laezila dressed more provocatively than Gevurah, that is for sure, with the space above her breasts baring cleavage and her flat abdominals on display by criss-crossing around her body in a very fashionable style for Underdark's females and their current trend. Those icy-colored eyes lifted to focus on Gevurah from the kneeling elder boy with the scrutiny that the matron was known for; it was the sort that sliced the other woman open, dissected her and placed every emotion, ambition, and desire on display to the apparent teenager. It was in slight narrowing of her eyes that her surprise at Gevurah's lienency toward the male was shown, extremely quick and subtle. But the Matron could already tell what would infatuate the woman; a gloved hand lifted in order to stay her guards before she stalked easily toward Gevurah, "Nonsense, the honor is mine to greet -you-, Lady Gevurah D'Artes," was offered and slightly muffled by the natural contours of the woman's mask without what would appear any sense of sarcasm. Her only intended slight might've been in her passing the kneeling elder boy in order to put her gloved hands on the First Daughter's shoulders, and bring her mask to either side of her face in mimicry of twin kisses. The guards approached from behind Jalynfein, but remained there, as if expectant he'd attack the matron while her back was turned. "Kuzial, Kuzial," she said informally and twisted, which kept both first daughter and elder boy at her front, "He is angry as ever, lonely as ever, and all about that ridiculous sword he lost."

Gevurah stands stiffly between the air-kisses and patiently waits out the customary flex of power, status, and aggression. Knowing when to let it pass and when to react is a skill as innate to drow nobles as levitation; this is one of those times you let it pass. Her entourage doesn’t share in her ease, and tense their bowstrings. Of course, none dare to take aim at Matron Laezila. They aren’t that stupid. Gevurah studies Laezila’s informal approach to both herself and Kuzial. The women have had little reason to meet, but on those few occasions Gevurah has studied Laezila in the same way she studies her now. The priestess has come to respect Laezila’s particular strategy in this noble-peacocking game. It’s a strategy ill-suited for Gevurah’s temperament, austere thanks in large part to Tiphareth’s influence both direct and indirect; but Laezila’s strategy has irrefutably worked well. Gevurah could stand to learn from the matron. Though one would be hard-pressed to find Gevurah scantily clad on any occasion. “I am sympathetic to hear he bored you with such a subject.” Who talks like that? Gevurah should have spent more time socializing, and less time enriching her inner, evil self.

Laezila shrugged a shoulder noncommittantly to the formal apology issued to her masked person from the First Daughter of the First House; her own guards, albeit standing behind the knelt figure of the Fourth House's elder boy, occasionally flicked their crimson eyes toward those tensed D'Artes guards. The latter were formidable opponents in combat, but what the members of the Second House lacked in comparatively skill they made up for in brutishness and tenacity. Half-muffled by the natural contours of her mask but contrastly augmenting her speech to an effortless mystique by that same shape, the matron spoke again, "It was interesting enough. He still believes in patriarchial superiority," she offered boldly, "even further, female submission. Even with Patron Tiphareth's, and your late father's contribution, it stands to show gender bears no marking on strength. Not the opposite of the old system. But I apologize, you are already well-versed in politics and they are a damper on my mood." She turned her masked face toward the elder boy now, acknowledging him, "He can be a bold one. Is he a new toy for you?"

Jalynfein has remained silent and still through the female's interaction, he may be a bit outspoken at times, but he is far from stupid. His eyes have drifted back down as he waits for permission to rise or speak but makes no sign that he desires either. The tensing of the guards around him does make him a bit uncomfortable though yet again that is something he keeps well hidden.

Gevurah blinks her acquiescence to Laezila’s point, but dares not speak her agreement aloud. The stones have ears, ears which become remarkably sensitive in the wake of Tiphareth’s spoken name. Grateful for the change in topic, Gevurah does her part in softening tensions by signaling to her entourage to stand at ease. Talking down to lower-ranked male drow is one of the few bonding activities available to noble drow women. Yes, her father did away with the formal trappings of the matriarchy, but its culture endures in the zeitgeist of the race. It’s harder to eradicate feelings, and even among the generations born post-matriarchy, as were Gevurah and Jalynfein, misandrists ideals persist. “Indeed, he is bold, but so is a lizard.” A reference to the common domesticated lizard mounts most houses stable. However, it is well known in Trist’oth society that Gevurah rides a giant spider mount. “And yet a lizard mount is useful to me, because it is bold and obedient. If this one,” her glare slips down her nose at Jalynfein, “is obedient, then perhaps he is useful.” To Jalynfein she demands, “Prove your obedience, Jalynfein. You may stand.”

Laezila 's ice-colored gaze remained fixed on Jalynfein as the other woman spoke, as if assessing him alongside every syllable offered to her by the First Daughter. Idly, one of her hands lifted to tap patiently against the hull of her white and faceless mask as the woman with a smaller literal stature than the D'Artes contemplated lightly. "Does he share the beliefs of his sister? I cannot imagine there to be much true obedience in such a... fixed state of mind." It wasn't a slight against Gevurah, but that against Jalynfein's House, as the matron was bold and assured in her reputable presence. It was both an insult and a challenge to the ambitions of the male drow. "I hardly find him pleasing to the eye either-" Now he also wasn't attractive. Ruthless, but speaking of, "Do you've an interest in a mate, Lady D'Artes?" Gossip.

Jalynfein rises to his feet instantly at the priestesses words, no word of thanks is given, as speaking would accomplish the complete opposite of proving obedience. The comparison to a lizard doesn't affect him, he had been compared to worse by his own mother. The comment on his appearance does irk him slightly, the male was actually very attractive, yet he makes no show of it for he understands the games of the priestesses well enough. Gevurah is his superior here he makes no sound or action without her leave to do so.

Gevurah laughs derisively alongside Laezila’s suggestion that she would be interested in mating with Jalynfein. Well, it’s something akin to a laugh, but lacks mirth. It’s all contempt and youth, and very little femininity. D’Artes is a sausage fest and has offered Gevurah little opportunity to learn how to be a lady aside from ‘dresses is a thing women do, so maybe you should wear one from time to time’. “No, Matron, at least not a mate of such poor stock.” In truth, Jalynfein’s attractiveness has little to do with Gevurah’s aversion to mating him or any other male drow. Her reason is one she never broadcasts publicly. To Jalynfein she commands, “Matron Laezila wishes to know if you share in your sister’s beliefs. Satisfy the Matron’s curiosity in your own words.”

Laezila 's own laugh didn't burst forth alongside the derisive one of Gevurah, and the mask did little to prove the evidence of her humor by hiding the smile on the face of the drow. Whether or not Jalynfein was very attractive or not didn't actually matter despite her words; he was of a lower rank from a lower House, and while Laezila valued individual strength and brutality in contrast to gender, she didn't fight against the order of Houses and the system of rule established there. In truth, the matron hadn't found a mate 'strong enough' for her, as specific and narrow as that field of suitors might be. A hand gestured along with Jalynfein's command, in her own way of approval to be addressed.

Jalynfein raises his gaze from the floor, still not looking either priestess in the eye, "I agree with her belief in the system of heirarchy, it works." he answers, "I share with her belief in female superiority, even if I did not I wouldn't want to rule over a House. I do, however, disagree with her worship of the Spider Goddess." After speaking he falls silent, his gaze drifting back down, out of respect for the two women. Honesty is something not many drow are used to and it still leaves a funny taste in his mouth after he speaks.

Gevurah smirks at Jalynfein’s response. Again, it’s an eerily cheerless expression. At the mention of the Spider Goddess, a transient expression hardens across Gevurah’s face - enigmatic and brief. Seeing as how Laezila moments ago finished summarizing her philosophy that neither gender is superior, Gevurah deems it wise to let Laezila chime in with her rebuttal before the priestess speaks.

Laezila could not personally fathom how one could believe in such a gender superiority; the idea of acquiescing to inferiority without any struggle to prove otherwise was simply... incomprehensible to her. Her mask veiled outward signs of this aside from her philosophy given moments before the offering of Jalynfein however, and all that remained where those icy eyes in blatant analysis of the elder boy. Several long moments of silence ensued before speaking, "What is it about me that makes me superior to you?" She posed, then, "Or about Lady Gevurah? Is it because we have breasts? Because we can carry a child? You wish to bed one of us? Or were you punished oft as a child to instill a foolish idea?" One of the lycan guards rumbled a low growl, and in response a gloved hand lifted to cease it, "Such is the downfall of our race. Is it too difficult to ask to be blessed with a male who can take charge and bear enough strength to protect his own? Or am I cursed to be surrounded with groveling beggars." She moved her gaze toward Gevurah, "Am I wrong, Lady D'Artes?"

Jalynfein his eyes rise once more and catch the matron's eye, a bold move but he's willing to take the punishment, "I possess the power to protect that which I care to. I would lay down my life for Mistress Gevurah, though she is not of my house merely because she is the voice of my god and I see power in her." his words are calm and true to the core, "You ask what makes you superior? I once asked the same question and was beaten to the verge of death, whilst being bombarded with the teachings of the Spider Goddess. It happened multiple times since, as you yourself, said I am bold. I do not wish to rule not because I lack the capability to do so, but because my skills do not lie in that area. My strength is Arcane and that is my focus." He falls silent his gaze never wavering. "If you wish to beat me for speaking out of place now I will not resist, but you asked and I answered."

Gevurah enjoys watching Laezila wrestle with Jalynfein, like a mongoose tackling a cobra who will always fight back. It’s quite the entertaining sport, and Gevurah direly wishes they could move this to the Trist’oth Arena so that she may indulge in some ringside snacks. Jalynfein’s stupid adherence to his truth flatters Gevurah. The duplicitous motives behind his flattery do not elude her, but even his unspoken desires do not directly threaten her, and thus she allows herself to bask in his high praise. Laezila’s direct question must be answered with care and vague phrasing. “Indeed, Matron! It is hard to prove unequivocally that either sex is superior. I do not know how one would go about proving such a hypothesis. But.” She pauses and gauges the Matron’s temper, adjusting her tone as necessary. “On an individual basis, some are inferior to others. For example, you may believe that most of Trist’oth is beneath you - and you won’t hear a rebuttal from me. Of course, if Jalynfein insists that he is inferior to me, I am inclined to believe him. The evidence is overwhelmingly in his favor.” Insulting Jalynfein is truly as fun as it looks. The priestess favors the honest mage with an empty smile. “Your obeisance is noted, Jalynfein.”

Laezila neither scolded nor beat Jalynfein for answering the questions imposed upon him, looking her in the eye, or the context of his words. "Bold, indeed," she murmured behind her mask before Gevurah stole her attention; such a faceless mask that bore the two icy eyes that were both calculating and cunning turned to meet the gaze of the woman who carefully and vaguely responded. Her temper was not the sort that flared in the ire and rage of a madwoman, like Kuzial's own temperament was fond of swinging into, but was a cold smolder that would be nursed and grown. Fortunately, there was none of that in those icy eyes toward Gevurah. "If one has no desire to crawl out from beneath a heel, I will not pull them from it." A pause, before she moved to again embrace lightly the First Daughter, and press lightly her mask against each cheek of the ebony woman in mimicry of kisses, "An honor to speak with you, Lady Gevurah, and may your enemies tremble at the thought of you. I must depart, however, and see to the duties of being a matron." It was an oddity; so young in such a position of power, none of which was handed to her, but clawed at and earned. She would wait for Gevurah's response without offering a farewell to the elder boy (he seemed so much weaker in her perception after his admission of inferiority) before that quartet of guards would escort her toward her House.

Jalynfein bows to the female, even if she said nothing to him a departing Matron demanded some show of deference.

Gevurah nods in agreement to Laezila’s comment about not liberating those from under her heel. “Wise words, Matron.” This time Gevurah is less stiff between Laezila’s twin mock-kisses, but still she does not mirror the gesture; it simply isn’t in her character. She repeats the Matron’s farewell and waits for Laezila to be out of sight before turning her attention back to Jalynfein. “Idiot.” Her insult lacks anger. Jalynfein was stupid in his honesty, but not in any way which insults, hurts, embarrases or threatens Gevurah herself, and thus he is spared from punishment. A cursory glance regards the leader of her entourage and she signs a command. The leader signals to the entourage, waits, then signals back to Gevurah that the tunnels are clear. Using her body and piwafwi as a shield from prying eyes, she signs to Jalynfein ~Prove to me that you truly wish to serve me over your house. [redacted - drow secrets!]~

Jalynfein takes the insult with silent acceptance, yet again he had been called worse. The necromancer nods and signs back ~Your will shall be done.~ a bow follows, ~When and where would you like me to deliver it?~ his hands ask.

Gevurah signs back. ~In a week, after Andon d'Chath has lost its light, you will go pray at the Temple of Endless Death and await further instruction. It is good we never met this day.~ She takes her leave.