RP:Masking The Truth

From HollowWiki

Part of the The Day I Tried To Live Arc


Summary: After receiving the breathing masks that were lovingly and expertly crafted by Frostmaw's wondrous blacksmith, Alvina, Khitti takes the trip to Kelay with Brand to gather supplies and get the masks enchanted by Rachelle.

The Fournier Estate, Kelay-Sage

“Fiddlesticks” had never been a more apt curse. Ever since a client had suggested it, Rachelle had spent a great bulk of her free time in the pursuit of enchanting an entire orchestra’s worth of instruments -- or at least a few things to accompany the grand piano she so adored. But the damned fiddles wouldn’t stick, so to speak. Magicking an instrument to play on its own was one matter, but getting it to play a part with all the appropriate flourishes and dynamics -and- stay properly in sync with all the others? That was a layer of complexity beyond even Rachelle’s capabilities, apparently. This evening, like many evenings in the past several weeks, the enchantress sat in her living room surrounded by various instruments: oboes, flutes, trombones, an obnoxiously large tuba, and yes, fiddles. There was barely any room to get around, so cluttered had the space become -- and it would all be for naught if she couldn’t get this trick working the way she’d envisioned. Her most recent round of adjustments completed, Rachelle sighed and commanded the instruments to begin again. She’d get it working right -eventually-.

Khitti, on the other hand, didn’t have any interest in magical instruments right now, fiddles or otherwise. No, right now there were more important things to do than play her sister’s violin--unless she were in the ruined city, that is, doing her all important ghost-sitting job. She’d finally arrive at that ridiculous enchantress’ house with a certain blonde male in tow, a satchel draped over her middle via the long shoulder strap, and that borrowed umbrella that still needed to be returned in one hand. Leaving the blonde on the sidewalk, she’d pass through the gate and skip around the areas where she remembered the enchantments were at (she wasn’t just jumping around like an idiot for fun you know!) and stepped up to the door. With a mischievous grin over her shoulder to that totally hot companion of hers, she’d start banging on the door like a madwoman and yelling, “Rachelle! Open zhis door up, voman! If you don’t do it, I’ll tell everyone your cakelog is zhe vorst zhing I’ve ever tasted!” It wasn’t, of course, but it was time for Rachelle to relive the nightmare that was Khitti von Schreier.

Might she actually have it this time? Rachelle had made it through the first few bars and, so far, not a note was out of place. She’d even dared to begin singing along to the tune, hoping that this was the time her enchanted orchestra would finally perform as it was supposed to the whole way through: “I put a spell on you, and now you’re mine! You can’t stop the things I --” Oh, but she could indeed be stopped. Especially by something like that frantic pounding at the door. How had someone even made it all the way to the door without one of her many wards in the yard alerting her? With a harsh command from her lips, the instruments came to a discordant halt, and in the resulting void of music she could hear exactly who that interloper was. Rachelle made her way around the musical minefield, into the hall and, summoning her best sour expression, threw open the door. “You know, it isn’t proper to wait so very long before returning someone else’s things; I’d nearly --” Once again, Rachelle would find herself interrupted, her lecture thoroughly derailed by the sight of the dashing man just beyond the limits of her yard. With her eyes never leaving him, she grabbed at Khitti’s arm and hissed into her ear, “Well, if you’d brought eye candy as recompense, why didn’t you just start with that?! Who -is- he? Is he single? My, the things I’d do…”

Khitti could only snicker at Rachelle as she’s clearly distracted by that oh so lovely man over yonder, “Oh, honey. I’m quite certain he’s not your type. Much too ill-tempered and not at all a gentleman. You’d hate him. Besides, vhatever it is zhose zhings are I’ve probably already done them, ” leaving that last bit up to Rachelle’s imagination. She sidesteps the question of his relationship status, however, because SHE STILL HASN’T FIGURED THAT OUT FOR HERSELF. Sigh. Well, anyway, she’d do that universal signal for ‘shoo’ towards the male and said, “Go on. It’ll be fine. It von’t take forever. Go get us some food for zhe trip home, yeah?” He’d give her a smirk as was his wont and headed off down the road. The redhead turns to head into Rachelle’s house, but just before the blonde could get too far, she’d yell, “And get me some carrot cake from zhe restaurant too pleaaaaaase!” He’d likely roll his eyes at her because he’s a jerk. But he’s a smokin’ hot jerk, so it’s okay. And then, without further ado, she’d push past Rachelle and head into the house. “Look, I’ve got a big job for you. Lots of money too.” Reaching into bag, she’d pull out a decent-sized pouch of money and tossed it at the other woman once she was paying attention. Probably shouldn’t ask where that money came from. Then again, it was likely just from finally selling those magical items she got from a dragon’s cave.

Rachelle looked about to protest the unauthorized entry into her home, and perhaps Khitti sending the attractive man away, but then there was that word. One of her favorite words. Money. Like the flipping of a switch, Rachelle donned her best ‘customer service’ persona, shutting the door behind them both and regarding the vampiress with a broad smile -- and then only just barely catching that coin pouch after fumbling it a few times. “A big job, you say? Those tend to be the most interesting. Just tell me what you need, while I get everything set up.” Freeing her umbrella from Khitti’s grasp, the woman placed it in its stand within the foyer and quickly turned the corner into some dimly lit room, emerging back into the hallway but a moment later with a large bag in, of course, the most fashionable of styles. “Come, my dear. I’m afraid the living room is quite occupied, but we can take this out to the garden.” And she’d lead the way, out beyond the kitchen to an expansive landscape of well-tended vegetables and assorted herbs and flowers. An ornate stone table sat in the center of it all, amply shielded from the elements by high walls of hedges and, of course, a humongous umbrella overhead. It was enchanted so as to be translucent, taking on the appearance of stained glass and casting swirling colors onto the table below.

Man, what the hell was it about everyone having nicer things than Khitti? First Lionel with his giant library and now this? She was certainly taken aback by the loveliness of the garden, but soon composed herself enough to grab a set of masks from her bag. “Uh. Yeah. Big job. I need zhese enchanted vith air magic. Zhe voman zhat made zhem included instructions on vhat and vhere specifically needs zhe enchantments.” The letter was then plucked from her bag as well and handed over so Rachelle can figure things out. “You can do it, yeah? I don’t know any other enchanters around here, to be honest, so I’m not sure vhere else to go. I’m sadly on a bit of time crunch. Going on a trip in a few days and I need zhese for it.”

Rachelle had set herself to carefully and quickly counting out the coins Khitti had offered to her, skimming the contents of the letter once it was provided and separating out the cost of each segment required. It almost seemed she was ignoring Khitti entirely -- and then a sharp inhale punctuated one of the vampiresses’ statements, alongside a raised brow and a tightening of the lips. Whatever was on her mind, though, she wouldn’t give voice to it just yet. Not until she’d finished tallying everything up and stowed the bulk of the coins in her own bag. “Khitti, darling,” she finally began, all exquisitely prim posture, gloved hands folded before her, “let me explain something to you of business, free of charge. You tell -most- tradespeople that you ‘don’t know where else to go,’ that you’re ‘on a time crunch,’ and they’ll charge you a premium for whatever it is you’re wanting of them, just because you’ve tipped your hand and shown you’d have no other option than to pay.” She’d begun fetching miscellaneous items from her bag as she spoke: small runestones, a handful of gems, a quill, sheets of parchment, colored inks, and so on. “People are out for themselves, by and large. It’s just the way things are. You don’t want to give them cause to take advantage of you if you can help it.” Rachelle shuffled the small stack of remaining coins back into their original purse and returned it to Khitti. “Lucky for you, I’m not one of those people. Your change, dear.”

Khitti first blinked at Rachelle, then promptly narrowed her eyes as the woman spoke, her lips twisting into a slightly irritated smirk. “I appreciate zhe concern, but I assure you money is zhe last zhing I care about right now.” As if to prove her point, she reaches into the pocket of her pants, pulls out a bit more gold and slides it across the table to the enchantress to join the gold that she tried to return, “Zhere is a hell of a lot going on zhat you likely vould not comprehend. As you sit here comfortably in zhis mansion of yours, people are dying. People are risking zheir lives to keep more people from getting people picked off like cattle--and I can’t fully help zhem just yet unless you help me enchant zhese masks, as I know you likely can, so I can go on my trip. And don’t continue assuming zhat I’m an idiot vith no idea on how to handle my gold.” Her tone had gotten rather stern, a contrast to what felt like a condescending one from Rachelle. “Trust me. I get zhe whole scam zhing, but I don’t have the luxury to care right now. Besides, I’m giving you my business because I trust -you-. Or maybe I just like your cakelog. Or something. I don’t know.” The vampiress shifted uncomfortably. Ugh. Feelings. Trust. Friendship. She hated it. All of it.

Rachelle eyed the new sack of coins, displeased. She’d make no move to retrieve them, but would push them to the midpoint of the table or onto Khitti’s half as many times as necessary to hammer her point in. She wasn’t going to take it, and she wasn’t going to let the vampiress return her change, either. Damn self-righteous new moneyed folk, always throwing around their wealth so carelessly. Were they somewhere more public, Khitti’s display would be sure to attract unwanted attention. “People are always dying,” Rachelle sniffed, finally picking up one of the masks and inspecting it. Ah yes, the air enchantment will go here, reinforcement there, a one way barrier for the port… “People are always dying, and there’s always someone looking to throw themselves at whatever the cause du jour is to try and stop it -- and nevermind that if it weren’t the one thing, it would be something else. It’s plenty noble to try, I suppose, but we’re not all made for that sort of perpetual front-line struggle.” Setting the mask down in line with all the others, Rachelle began the preparations for her first enchantment, arranging gems onto the parchment that laid beneath the canisters of each mask and inscribing the appropriate runes in formation along the edges. Every so often, her eyes flicked up from her work to meet the vampiress. “You speak at least in part of the tensions between Frostmaw and Larket, correct? Whatever it is, someone still has to till the fields and forge the tools and stitch together clothing, and someone has to provide the enchantments to make all that work more bearable, not to even mention the work I do enchanting gear for people like yourself. So I may be ‘comfortable,’ yes, but don’t confuse that for wholly unaware and not contributing.”

The redhead merely rolled her eyes and sighed as Rachelle refused to take the gold. Fine. Suit yourself. It’s pulled back to her, the coins and pouch dragging across the table, and hastily shoved into a pocket inside her coat. “Yes, people die. Zhey grow old, or get sick, or accidents happen. Zhat should be it. Not senseless murdering. Not vars for vhatever reasons these monarchs seem to get into zheir heads. So far, zhe only one of zhem zhat I’ve met vith their head on zheir shoulders is Hildegarde.” There’s another sigh as she resigns herself to resting her head on the table, her arms folded beneath her chin as she watched Rachelle work, “Zhere’s more zhan just Larket now; zhey at least are pacified and dealing vith zheir problems internally, I guess. Now zhere’s drugged up people vandering around Frostmaw zhat look like zombies. -Actual- zombies, I can handle--zhis, I have no idea about.” Khitti shakes her head--as well as she can in this position anyway--and eyes Rachelle for a moment, “People of your...erm...ranking, I guess, in society don’t normally associate zhemselves vith vars and zhe like unless zhere’s fame and fortune in it for zhem. At least, zhe ones I’ve seen anyway. Ve’ve only met zhe once, so you can’t blame me for assuming.”

This news of drug-zombies was met with a perked eyebrow -- Rachelle wasn’t -that- aware of events in foreign areas. “Well, there will always be the type of people to rely on that sort of thing,” she shrugged, dismissive. “Maybe the people aren’t faring well with the tensions so soon after the last war ended.” With her etchings now complete, Rachelle set gems of lapis lazuli onto each page, directly in the center of most of the runes. From the inner ring outward, each lit up and pulsed ever further outward, casting everything in the vicinity in a greyish-blue light. When each rune had illuminated, they all extinguished at once; Rachelle wasted no time in retrieving the gems and beginning a new set of runes in a different color ink, this time centered near the front of each mask. Only once she’d settled into a comfortable pattern of work did she speak again. “Anyway, I suppose I cannot fault you too much for your assumptions. I’ve certainly known a few who fit that profile.” Khitti was gifted with a pained smile. “And you? What is this grand adventure you’re preparing for? A journey underwater, judging by the masks?” Oh, Rachelle. How little you know.

“ ‘Adventure’? Oh. Um.” Khitti pauses, thinking on how to go about telling Rachelle that she’s got an evil, murderous shadow creature in her body that has to be gotten rid of before Hildegarde eats her in one bite or snaps her neck or something. “Yeah, ve’re going out to Chartsend. Zhere’s awful pirate-types out zhere zhat’s been keeping shipments from coming in to Frostmaw.” Okay, so that’s not exactly the truth, but this wasn’t something Rachelle needed to know, was it? Khitti actually felt a little bad because she lied, but she shoved it to the back of her mind, choosing to busy herself with looking up at the umbrella above them instead of worrying.

“Oh, Chartsend! Yes!” Rachelle nodded like she’d been there before. She hadn’t. “Make sure you visit the Temple of Nyrmine if you have time. It’s a little out of the way from the rest of things there, so I haven’t had the chance, but I hear it’s quite beautiful.” The second round of runes were nearing their completion; when it was time, these too were lit in a similar manner to the first set, and the reagents were once again swept away. “There, that should do it. Why don’t you give it a test?” She had, perhaps, forgotten that Khitti was a vampire and didn’t need to breathe. They were -almost- friends enough for her to forget such oddities, after all.

Khitti shifted her line of sight back to Rachelle once she’d commented that the masks were finished, nodding to the enchantress, “Nyrmine. Got it. Vill do. I didn’t really have zhe opportunity to see zhe sights or anything my first time zhere, vhen I got to Lithrydel, so maybe I can zhis time around.” Note to self: Drag Dominic or Brand to Chartsend. Might be better than Cenril. Less gangs, if any at all, and much quieter. Maybe it would be a good place to live too in the off chance that something happened with Frostmaw. Mention this to Brand when he picks you up. She studied the masks for a moment, her mouth opening to mention the fact that she didn’t need to breathe, but she opted not too. Acquiescing to Rachelle’s request, she put on the mask and breathed in that very unnecessary bit of air, then let it back out. “It seems like it vorked.”

Rachelle broke into a wide grin. “Well, of course. It’s pure as air can be. Only the best for my favorite customer.” She probably said that to everyone. Still, it looked like she might actually mean it, when it came to Khitti, despite all of their differences. Rising from her chair, the woman began returning things to her bag, slinging it over one shoulder when she was finished. “It helps, though, that the handiwork was exceptional. If you’d gone to an inferior craftsperson I imagine I might have had to throw something else on just to keep it all holding together properly -- it wouldn’t have been the first time!” Rachelle led the way back indoors, disposing of her bag against the wall once inside. The maid could return it to its rightful place, or she’d do it herself later. “Now that that’s done, might I offer you some tea? Biscuits and jam, perhaps? What time are you expecting your, ah, suitor to return?” She had a reputation to uphold, you see -- not only the best enchantress, but the finest hostess in Kelay. It was how she stayed up to date on all the local gossip.

Khitti nodded, her own grin surfacing a bit, “Alvina’s zhe best in Frostmaw. She vas given zhe title of ‘official blacksmith’ too, I’ve been told. She made my bow too.” Of course, said bow has been left at home. No need to bring it when they were just gathering supplies. She’d gone to reply to Rachelle’s offer of food and drink, mouth agape, words hanging on her tongue until the brown-haired woman mentioned that Brand was her ‘suitor’. “Bwaaaah?” was all she managed to say, anything that’d been there before was now gone in a flash and the poor vampiress’ brain completely flatlined. “B-B-Brand isn’t m-my s-suitor, “ is choked out finally. Emerald eyes were wide with shock and thankfully she hadn’t recently fed or else her cheeks would surely be as dark red as her hair. “He’s...just my friend.” A friend that you have quite a bit of sex with. “Best friend, even.” People had those, right? That was a thing? Trying to explain just what the hell Brand and Khitti were to each other was a hell of a lot worse than herding cats and she was getting tired of it. She hadn’t even gotten a decent answer from him that day in Vailkrin not long ago, but there had been zombies. Sigh. She’d probably never figure it out at this point; those dreams of hers, where they were married, hadn’t helped anything either. Khitti dwelled on her thoughts, and the things she’d said to Rachelle, internally, avoiding the enchantress’ gaze now. Did she almost seem sad about it…? “No...I should probably go find him. Ve’ve other zhings to gather for zhe trip. I’ll come back zhough, if you’d like. Ve can have food and such zhen.”

Rachelle was composed, graceful in the face of Khitti’s stammering. It wasn’t the first time she’d seen a friend’s relationships more clearly than they did themselves, and she was sure it wouldn’t be the last. What else could the man be, the way she’d spoken of him earlier? She’d seen it a hundred times before, and thousands more in all her cherished romance novels. But nevertheless, Khitti was not to be pushed. “Ah, my mistake; I misinterpreted. You must be very close.” There was a warm smile then, a perfect mask over what could have been teasing and humiliating. But she was a good friend. The best. And the best hostess. Khitti didn’t know how lucky she was. “Very well, then. You come back soon, and you can tell me all about this trip of yours. I hope it goes well. Bring me back a souvenir, if you would?” She was ushering Khitti towards the door, not that she really needed the escort. It was just polite. “Something small, just a trinket will do. I collect them from wherever Father travels.” Granted, Rachelle’s idea of a trinket was probably far more gaudy than what Khitti would have in mind…

Khitti wasn’t met with teasing and vague harassment about that tall, dark, and brooding Catalian? Odd. She figured Rachelle to be the type to do that. “A souvenir? Sure. Yeah. I can do zhat.” She’d gather up the masks and gently stuff them into her satchel, offering Rachelle a smile, “Zhank you. I appreciate it.” And then, the vampiress circled around to the enchantress’ side of the table and...hugged her. She actually frakking hugged her. Why in Lithrydel would she do that? It’s not like she wasn’t coming back, right? Taking a few awkward steps away, closer to the exit, she’d give her a bit of a wave, “You stay out of trouble, okay?”

Rachelle returned the unexpected hug, and if she was puzzled by it she knew better than to show it. She was in good spirits now, anyway, feeling refreshed by the visit and a heavier purse, and ready to get back to her orchestra project with renewed determination. Khitti’s last words earned a laugh. “You’re going on a vacation, and it’s Lithrydel. I think ‘stay out of trouble’ ought to be my line, yes? Regardless, I’ll be here should you ever need anything of me. Take care of yourself, Khitti.”