RP:It's a Very, Very Mad World

From HollowWiki

Part of the Rest in Pieces: Vailkrin! Arc


Summary: Trajek returns to the slave market to feast on the corpses left behind from his gift to Larewen, unaware that Talene's lingering in the vicinity, preparing for a confrontation after what she'd seen. Larewen's hot on the ghoul's heels, livid with his insubordinance. Aerlithe happens across the trio while tending to her pet bird and watches as things quickly take a turn toward the unexpected.

Abandoned Slave Market

Talene knew she was tempting fate by returning here, so soon after her last foray. But, if there was any place for a confrontation, why not here? Better this place than, say, in or near one of her hiding spots. There was no invitation, or even a threat given. Just a thought that Larewen and the Ghoul would likely be here again, if not the tavern. A whetstone worked to sharpen one of her smaller daggers, usually discreetly tucked under a wrist or in her belt. One leg crossed over the other as she sat on a crate, her hat and cloak left off to the side to allow chestnut strands to freely lay over one shoulder, just above her breasts. Face was makeup free, as usual, hair simply brushed into order. All was quiet for a while, and if nothing occured on this night, she'd be perfectly fine with it.


Trajek had returned to the slave market, but not for the particular reason that was dragging her dagger against a whetstone. No. All day and night, at all places and at all times, he was driven by the need to sate his hunger. He could've hunted, yes. He could've drugged some poor vampire with a sword to the gut. He could've robbed a grave or ten; they were plentiful enough across the lands in this trying times. But he knew where there were freshly decaying corpses; he had severed their heads and placed them in a mound. And it was to those bodies that the arriving ghoul marched. He did not look at Talene; not an eye, not a twitched muscle, not even a sniff of the air. He walked past her, like a man possessed, to one where the decapitated bodies had been left. He was upon one, his claw like hands digging up handful after handful. His shredded throat rasped and gargled, more of the masticated meat falling clear from his throat than down into his voracious gut. The more that fell on him, that saturated his already stained robes, the faster he tore, the faster he pushed through his gore-stained lips.

Larewen is seeking that feeding ghoul, the madness having receded enough finally to allow the elf to regain some measure of her own self. Enough that she was missing Emrith, at least. The elf has replaced her torn gown and a bandage is wrapped around her belly and chest. Only that cloth keeps the seeping corruption from staining her dress. Mismatched eyes sweep this way and that as she approaches the pile of corpses to find her query. When Trajek looks up, he’ll find her stare fixed upon him - only this time her left eye is not the gray of Langley’s own, but the brilliant, verdant hue of Talene’s missing one.

Talene just watched the Ghoul march right on past her without even so much as a disdainful grunt. Her one eye watched him briefly, sniffing delicately. Upon Larewen's arrival, she continued sharpening her daggers, but when she looked up and saw a new eye - HER eye - she froze. Somehow, she procured that eye from Langley. While her composure gave little away, she could feel her gorge rising. Langley would have much to answer for, when she saw him next. That is, if he could speak past her strangling the life from his wretched form, the son of a bitch.

Aerlithe enters the abandoned store without knowing who would be here, as it was the smells of congealed blood and rotting flesh which drew her to this place. Once the three who had preceded her are noticed, the corrupted vampire does tilt her head curiously, for a moment ignoring the bird she held and its pained squawks. Once they again registered, there is only a tender, "Hush now, precious," said to the half rotted creature, her free hand now brushing its head to cause more flesh to be pulled away in the process.

Trajek kept gorging himself on corpseflesh long after Larewen had walked up to him, and long past what was needed for his ghoulish body to reanimate itself. It was a point of pride, or one of order, that Larewen -waited-. The Mad Queen would seethe where she stood. She would burn. She would boil over at the indignity of it, how a former slave who was on his hands and knees would make -her- wait! He had cleaned the corpse's gut clear enough for his hand that was festooned with viscera could grab hold of the dead elf's coccyx. When the death knight rose, so, too, did the vertebral column, and by the time he was at his full height, the tendons had hardened, the soft tissue had ossified, and the nerves and hanger-ons had shortened and sharpened to jagged teeth along its length. What dripped from the basilisk blade was a mixture of rotted blood, poisonous sludge, and bits of its former place. What dripped from his gore stained lips, what slipped between the grip on his throat, was pure indifference. "You. Follow." He turned his back to Larewen, his empty socketed gaze settled upon Talene. His walk to her was slow, slow enough for the necromancer to follow.

Larewen presses pale, scarred lips into a thin line at Trajek’s command, at his making her wait. Oh how the ghoul seemed to love trying her patience! Her mouth opens as he issues his command to follow, her feet remaining where firmly where they are. She has no intent of following the ghoul at -his- command. Aerlithe’s voice reaches her and for a brief moment, the necromancer’s dual-colored gaze fixate upon the newest of her daughters and the crying bird within her grasp. As flesh sloughs off its small frame, her lip curls upward faintly in twisted amusement at the animal’s suffering. It isn’t until Trajek has stopped and fixed his stare upon Talene that Larewen finally follows after him, if only to bestow a wicked curl of her lip upon the rogue. Talene’s eye glitters beautifully in Larewen’s left orbital. “Ah, your toy, ghoul.”

Talene wouldn't give Larewen the pleasure of a single reaction on her part, but she would cooperate with the Ghoul, and follow alongside him. She may even gradually come to stand a little closer to him as she stowed her dagger away, only gods know where. Clothes were adjust with smoothing motions of her hand, perhaps even a little tug here and there. Her one eye would cast itself over her shoulder at Larewen briefly, as she kept pace with Trajek. Her words, for now, were for him for now. " What do -you- want? You got the ring back from me."

Aerlithe pets the bird still, very unconcerned with the suffering she'd inflicted upon the slowly rotting bird being held. Her attention is on Larewen, Talene, and Trajek exclusively now, the location of each noted as a single step forward is taken. Still she does not speak, opting to just continue observing and learn, all the better to be more useful to her house and progress in self-assigned studies.

Trajek walked until both Talene and Larewen had been gathered; he stopped when they had both come close. Who was it that was closer to him? The rogue...she -was- close, and he eyed her up and down in the same manner he gauged a freshly dead person. But then there was Larewen, the fount of madness and power, and that sour look upon her face. She he savored most thoroughly, his roiling black orbs looking over each rise and bend of her body he had caressed, that he had broken. "Summit." He let fall through the fingers upon his throat. "Allies. Kill you," He swung his head to Talene. "Kill you." His head rolled back to Larewen. "And...I...will...kill...you...both. If. Negotiations. Fail."

Larewen curls her lip at Trajek, mismatched eyes narrowing into a cool glare at his words. Aerlithe’s proximity affords the necromancer some comfort, should things take a torn for the worse, but presently the younger Dragana is not entirely acknowledged. Trajek’s desires are something that will be met, but not because of the ghoul’s wishes. No, Langley’s hand dealt those cards. Trajek’s demands only served to fortify a jealousy within the woman. Slowly, her stare turns to Talene, even as she speaks to Trajek, “You do not get to command me, ghoul.” While he studies her, Larewen is staring at the rogue. “You’ve made a deal with a devil, girl, and I’m the queen that’ll grant you your wish.”

Talene watched Trajek as he spoke, glancing briefly over to Aerlithe and her decaying feathered friend. The ghoul's words had her snorting audibly. " You've -got- to be joking. Allies?", an incredulous smile baring a peek of fang. The necromancer would find the rogue a few steps closer after she spoke, " You, especially, have to be daft if you think I'm not aware of what Langley is." He was also going to be either in a great deal of pain, or dead, when she was through with him. " He never mentioned any queen. Especially one who will lose that same pretty green eye of mine if she stares at me like that again." While she was close, she wasn't quite close enough to touch, " Besides, how could it possibly benefit me to work with you? Huh?" Her smile widens even more so, " Or would it benefit -you- if I don't start making friends with....drow mages, hm?" A not so subtle turning of tables, the message clear: I'm not scared of you, bitch, but you'd better be scared of me.

Aerlithe only continues with her observing from a distance, with the slightest hint of a frown making itself visible once Trajek's words are heard. Even the bird, ever voicing its pain, isn't given any thought now while she waits to see if Larewen would have any need of her.

Trajek drew in a deep breath that he did not need, and he let a growl rumble through his shredded throat. When you were a hammer, all problems soon devolved into nails; his hand gripped his throat and the hilt of his blade with equal intensity. But not all solutions could come from massacring the bullheaded women who were the problem. No. Some things required politics, statesmanship, and finesse. "Marriage," He said, his words amplified, solidified, by the gore crusting his grip. His twisted the blade in his grip, its pommel used in stiff motions. "Queen." The hilt halted before Larewen. It swung to Talene before his next words. "Queen Consort." It was settled, or at least settled in the Ghoul's mind. "Alliance. Made." He did not wait to hear what either vampires had to say; he was through them both with a stiff shoulder. He had other tasks to attend to this night.

A wicked grin cracks the elf’s lips open widely at Talene’s words and Larewen does not turn her gaze away. “What, did you expect him to wiggle his fingers and grant your wish like a genie?” she asks, venom lacing her words. “You have two options, girl: either swear your allegiance to the your new Queen, or fall with your House. Fortunately, this rot for brains is sweet on you and would rather kill us both than let you walk away from this alliance. Quite frankly, I don’t give a damn whether you’re alive or dead. So think about that, fool.” If she is phased by Talene’s knowledge, she’s careful not to let it show. No, if Talene chooses to use that information she’s gleaned, then likely the mad woman will come after her directly in a more confrontational… what? The elf’s attention snaps to Trajek, dark brows rising. “Your new toy lacks the proper bits, ghoul.”

Talene rolled her one eye at Larewen, " One doesn't become Queen just because she-Uh. What?", her gaze slicing towards Trajek at the same time Larewen stares him down. Marriage? As in political marriage? Queen Consort? Talene's "bits" were sufficient for any of her previous dalliances, male and female, so the barb went largely without reaction. The ghoul was watched with astonishment as he left, jaw slack. The rogue respected Trajek's abilities, as did apparently Larewen. At least enough to hear him out. The necromancer's tenacity was hard not to see, so perhaps that was an attracting point for the Ghoul, who knew. While she didn't outright say yes, she didn't outright say no either, to the alliance. The sheer juxtaposition of what Trajek was proposing had left the rogue speechless for once. So, instead of saying no or yes, she merely turned half in a daze to go and think on what was said. Larewen could take comfort in knowing that this conversation was far from over.

With only hard glares and seething hatred thrown at his way and not any blade, whip, or tendril of energy to stop him, the Ghoul continued on in his slow, deliberate trudge.

Larewen really isn’t any more capable of speech than Talene is after Trajek’s… proposal? What exactly is the correct term for the alliance the ghoul attempts to forge with this idea of marriage between Larewen and Talene? Either way, as long as Talene is nothing more than a daughter of House Nasar, there’s nothing to truly be gained from the marriage - even if it is political. That, and Larewen would rather silence the rogue than marry her. Of course, these aren’t the thoughts that are going through her mind presently, because while her power-hungry, logical side could see the merits in such a union, her softer, squishier side still has feelings for a certain heroic elf and that is a problem. By the time Larewen’s found her voice once more, only she and Aerlithe remain. With a gesture, she beckons the witch nearer, murmurs something to her quietly, and then sends her on her way back to House Dragana.