RP:Life, Love, and Undeath
Synopsis: Zahrani crosses paths with Larewen in the Kelay Tavern, and they end up drawn into a much deeper conversation than either of them had planned.
Kelay Tavern
Zahrani quietly sits at a small 2 person booth in the tavern, facing the exit, the panther recharging with a refreshing drink after a morning of study and physical conditioning. The paladin wears her more elf like face, dreadlocks lazily pulled back behind her pointed ears. She would occasionally get stared at by other patrons, but she had long since grown accustomed to it. A slightly blushing barmaid arrives with a floral cup of tea, and Rani smiles in gratitude at the young woman's service.
Larewen strides through the entrance of the establishment, her very aura foreboding and ominous. It’s rare that the cursed elf is seen this far from Vailkrin, and even more rare that trouble is not following in her wake when she is. There’s a twinge in her chest, a brief hiccup in her step as she crosses the threshold into the building, a reminder that this is where she met Emrith, and that her heart might never heal from that love, but she struggles to dismiss it. A flaw in that seemingly perfect, dark grace. Reaching the bar, she raises a skeletal hand upward and taps two bony fingers upon the countertop. “Wine, Mesthak,” comes her silvery voice, smooth and tinkling like bells. While she waits for the order to be fulfilled, her gaze sweeps outward, one verdant eye and one brown, to survey those present. Here, the hunting grounds are different.
Zahrani silently follows Larewen with her eyes and ears for a moment, the ominous feeling breaking against her own divine aura. It felt... familiar. But only just. Sipping her tea, the humbly dressed paladin would speak, should their eyes meet. "Have we perhaps met before? At some distant Tower of Magi?" Her own voice is a mid-tenor, with a characteristic feline accent to it.
Larewen ’s eyes stop in their traveling, fixing upon the paladin curiously. Her dual colored stare studies both appearance and aura. “Yes,” she answers, her voice candied. The elf’s head tilts to the side, a few strands of dark, chestnut hair briefly falling across her face before she pulls them away. “I believe you were present when I took Gilwen’s curse.” To accentuate her words, she lifts the skeletal limb upward. “It had more flesh on it, when you saw it last.”
Zahrani has a somewhat neutral face upon seeing the woman's more skeletal form. "Oh my. Was it worth it?" She asks the question out of genuine curiosity, without a hint of condescension. The panther's cyan orbs remain locked on Larewen's own gaze, her dark warm fingers interlocking as she rests her arms on the table. They had only meet once, so the vampire is very much unknown to the cat.
Larewen ’s lips curl upward into a smirk at Zahrani’s query. The elf doesn’t hesitate in her consideration. “It was very much worth it,” she answers. “Giving up a part of one’s self for what one desires is but a small price to pay.”
Zahrani nods in understanding, glancing out the window before saying, "I suppose everyone does to a greater or lesser degree..." The panther decides to end the sentence there, certain that Larewen didn't come here just to have a random stranger wax philosophic at them. Gesturing to the seat in front of her, the paladin offers a rather ironic invitation, "Care to join me at this booth? I don't bite...on Thursdays, at least." Was the cat using humor to stave off anxiety, or was she just that confident.
Larewen arches her brow, and it’s precisely this time when Mesthak finally delivers her wine. Curling a finger around its stem, she turns toward the paladin and, with confident strides, approaches Zahrani’s table. Oh, she saw the irony, but fear is something this woman distinctly lacks. “I always bite,” she says.
Zahrani 's aura becomes steadily more noticeable as Larewen approaches. The cat is doing her best to keep much of it withdrawn so as not to make it uncomfortable for the vampire. Alas in the places where it brushes and interacts with Larewen's, she would sense warmth and life, a feeling of fullness perhaps. Who knows? It tends to affect everyone differently. In response to the woman's bite disposition, Rani quips back, "I thought so. So what desires bring you to the surface? It has been quite some time since the Mage Tower."
Larewen chuckles softly. “Well, with Vailkrin in its current state, some things are easier purchased elsewhere,” she offers, a simple and innocent enough reason on the surface. Though surely a noble woman of Larewen’s standing has someone to do that for her. If Zahrani’s aura affects her feelings, Larewen’s expression is stone. The only change would be a strengthening of her own, an exertion of death and decay, of loss.
Zahrani looks the vampire up and down, taking in the noble stance and demeanor. "Wine is That expensive in the city of the dead, now? Good to know." Her face keeps a calm gaze, despite the sense of loss coming from Larewen. If anything, it makes her feel sympathetic to the other woman; that said, she refrains from showing signs of pity. The panther still knows a predator when she sees one. The cat IS one, after all. She's also curious, absorbing information like a sponge when she's in a certain mindset. It's hard to resist a mystery when she has time to spare.
Larewen laughs softly, the sound tinkling. "Goodness no. This was once an old haunt of mine when I was among the living. I like to come here now and then when I'm out and about for memory's sake."
Zahrani looks about the tavern, then back to Larewen, "Not a bad practice... To reflect on who you were and how you've grown." A very positive take on the idea, indeed. "And...where do those memories usually take you?" The panther then adds, "If it's not too bold to ask." She takes another sip of her tea.
Larewen reaches out between them, exhaling black smoke. It pools on the table, thick and heavy. With a swirl of her fingers, figures form. A young elf, a vampire bearing his family’s curse. Their first meeting. When the scene is over, she runs her hand through the darkness and it evaporates. “Isn’t it funny, how love affects all walks of life? It takes me back to the beginning. To a crucial part of my life that defined me."
Zahrani allows a knowing smile to form on her face at Larewen's question, watching the figures play their role before responding with a line from her Order's teachings, "And when love speaks to you believe in her, Though her voice may shatter your dreams as the north wind lays waste the garden. For even as love crowns you so shall she crucify you. Even as she is for your growth so is she for your pruning." This teaching might seem strange to some, coming from a paladin. Rani isn't one of those stereotypically chaste types. She's no stranger to love in many beautiful and terrifying forms. "Where would you travel next? I ask myself that question often, when Love's twisted path pulls me into my memories."
Larewen lifts a shoulder and raises her glass of wine to her lips. From this nearness, the paladin undoubtedly will see the bits of bone through her flesh on the left side of her face where her skin has melted away. “I’ve yet to decide,” she answers honestly.
Zahrani does not recoil or show any outward signs of disgust at Larewen's physical disposition. She had healed some very disturbing ailments in her time. "Does Love still hurt in its tenderness and its passion, even beyond the grave?" The cat really does try her best not to get overly philosophical, but in her defense, they are literally a paladin and a necromancer talking about love and life and death.
Larewen gives a single, solemn nod and swallows hard. The cursed runes carved into her flesh flare to life with the admission, sending a wave of agony through her body. She grips the glass tightly, shattering it. She is showing weakness, the curse tells her.
Zahrani jumps ever so slightly at the shattering of glass. She instinctively offers a hand in comfort, but then stops immediately upon realizing that this may not be the best thing for a vampire. Instead, she calmly says, "I think that's very brave and strong of you to admit. Especially to a stranger." Her eyes narrow at the running markings that flare angrily. The malevolent will of the curse has a base, animalistic understanding of strength. "There is no shame in letting go....or holding on. You can gain strength in carrying the things that burden you. Even if memories of Love are your burden." The cat would probably know a thing or two about that.
Larewen grimaces and verdant flames roam along the blackened markings. “It’s not… that… simple,” she growls, fingers flexing to allow glass and wine to clatter to the table. Her eyes clothes and she inhales a sharp, unnecessary breath. A second and a third later and the curse seems to lessens its hold on her.
Zahrani sighs, "It never is, is it? Forgive me for minimizing what you're enduring." She seems genuinely apologetic, but she still stands by what she had said about the bravery of admitting how love feels in the afterlife. "May I ask: when you come back to these memories, what rises to the forefront in your mind?" The paladin hadn't expected to hold a therapy session for a vampire, but then again, the cat has also had to move on from a very brief romance awhile back. This was just as much a self-reflection for her.
Larewen answers simply, with one name: "Shishi." Her breathing is still slow, a habitual calming move rather than one out of need. Her gaze lifts to the paladin, the corner of one side of her mouth quirking upward. "Strange conversation, no?"
Zahrani keeps the eyes rested on Larewen's face, "I've heard that name." As her eyes meet the vampire's, the paladin chuckles and responds, "I suppose it is, especially since we didn't formally introduce ourselves and just dove right in. My name is Zahrani. What are you called?"
Larewen chuckles dryly. “Of course you have,” she replies. With a wave of her fingers, her broken glass knits itself back together and the wine relocates itself inside its bowl. She raises it to her mouth and sips from it. “Larewen.”
Zahrani nods, watching the glass of wine repair itself before responding, "It is nice to meet you, Larewen. Should our parts cross again when we're not busy, I am generally in the mood for interesting conversations." Of course, they didn't have to stop, but the cat would leave that up to Larewen.
Larewen dips her head to Zahrani. "Likewise," the elf replies, though she seems to have nothing further to say.
Zahrani enjoys the silence for a moment, gazing into her teacup before asking rather boldly, "What was Shishi like?"
Larewen feels the curse boiling her blood again, feels the tightening of her chest as her mind drifts to those early days of her marriage to Shishi. No one’s ever asked her that question before. What was he like… As her mind moves through that past, and through to more recent times, sadness settles on her features. “He deserved a better wife.”
Zahrani listens intently, sipping her tea quietly. She's unsure of where this would go, the paladin wondering in the back of her mind what exactly she is about to step in. Still, she feels compelled to ask, "You seemed happy... What changed? What makes one better than you, Larewen?" She pauses, then adds, "Also, you can ask me to stop any time you want." The paladin makes it a point not to corner anything but prey. She leaves a way out for friends and acquaintances.
Larewen swirls the carmine liquid around in the bowl of her glass. “I changed,” she says, simply. She became more power hungry; she desired things Shishi could not give her, though he tried. Her gaze shifts away from the paladin then, toward the exit. The elf contemplates leaving. “I was horrible to him in return, for all he gave me.”
Zahrani nods, thinking about Larewen's words and saying quietly, "it can be hard to just not care, isn't it? It's our cares that help make us who we are. Your feelings, whatever they are, are your own. You get to decide, in your own time, what is important to you."
Larewen says nothing for a long moment, her lips pressing into a thin line. “I will always care,” she admits quietly, her gaze failing to return to the panther. “But reclaiming that is not what is important to me.”
Zahrani turns to look at the vampire, "So what is?" The panther cares less about what Larewen's answer actually is, and more about whether it's an honest answer. She's the one who has to live with herself forever, or at least until she meets her end.
Larewen lifts her chin at Zahrani. “Vailkrin,” she answers, draining the rest of her glass. There is only a the faintest of doubts in her heart, that spot that will always be soft for Shishi.
Zahrani isn't entirely sure what that means. She accepts that she doesn't necessarily have to know that herself. "Alright, then." the panther says, before finishing her tea.
Larewen responds to Zahrani with a nod then and finally rises from her seat. With a dip of her head, she makes her departure.