RP:Of Things Lost
Part of the Vakmatharas' Jar Arc
Summary: Daermon discovers Raven and believes that Brennia is gone for good. Corvo has some damage control to do.
DeVere College of Bardic Arts
After finding your way through the Topiary Garden it would only be fitting to come upon a building which looks like a section taken right out of any castle in the same style as all of Schezerade, in all it's decadence; marble forming the entirety of the large building accented with gold and platinum in which you'll have to cross over a glass bridge in order to reach it. The front door is welcoming for all shapes and sizes that are the citizens of Hollow and spans a great distance in it's solid French Door of a design. Opening it up one might be perplexed at the ability for the fortress to hold such music coming from the main hall there with all of the astute students practicing their talents. Once immersed, the eyes might be stolen by the gaping cathedral ceilings above, spotted by gold and platinum in which encircle mini glowing stones to mimic the night sky, but beauty is not what the ceiling is for; it carries one's voice in the most pleasing fashion. This main hall is quite a vast oval-shaped room, but the walls are shelves, carved into small diamond shapes. Each slot contains a scroll to nearly any song someone might wish to hear or practice in it's magic. Among the marvelous white-wood, gold-accented, concert grand piano in the middle of this large room there are a plethora of nearly every musical instrument imaginable, one just has to look.
Nearing further into the castle one's nostrils might pick up on the scent of mouth watering food being cooked wafting from the kitchen which is north of the main room and it also holds an elegant dining area containing a handful of small tables. In the corner of this kitchen there is a winding staircase which travels below where students are bustling to and fro. If you wish to stay, grab your favorite spirits from the well stocked kitchen and listen to the bardic magics, relax in one of the many luxurious sofas strewn about these to areas. Off to the east corner of the main hall, there is a locked staircase with an outreaching design in onyx stone overlay which is seemingly inking over into the pristine luxury you’ve found yourself in. It's as if the area above holds a darkness that's attempting to leak out into this little slice of heaven… Better just leave that door alone.
Daermon hadn’t waked when Brennia had slipped away, for that was how deep he often slept when they were alone. Yet, when she died, the bond snapped, like a great chain, snapping apart and you were struck in the soul with the end that flew back to you. He bolted from bed, not knowing what had happened or where, but that Brennia was gone. He hit the stairs, leaping down them to find the woman, or what was left, before the fireplace. He stops, recognizing Raven asleep before the flames. He stops because if he doesn’t, he might do something he regrets. He wouldn’t know anything about why, or what had happened, but here was the being that had been a constant source of strain and pain for the pair. He takes a halting step, fingers curled into fists hard enough that his claws drew blood from his palms. His foot comes down softly on something hard, and he lifts it, glancing down, and then bending to pick up a very familiar bottle. He knows then, in his heart, Brennia is gone. He moves, pulling a chair to himself and sitting, suddenly weak, face held in shaking hands. Over time, he would compose himself enough to hold back his grief, for now at the very least. He would wait for Raven to wake, and see if his assumption proved true.
Raven woke with a jolt at the sound of the vial crunching and damn it all her throat was still healing from the beast that had crushed it, but what was odd is that her heart beat as if it wasn’t quite in tandem with her motions. She still felt weak and now very thirsty. Corvo was brought by Hinder who had noticed the trail of blood, Alan’s and Brennia’s blood, for they left quite the crime scene. Covo thinks quickly and yanks up a throw blanket to had what looks like Brennia in a nightgown to cover herself up, “go get an Imperial healer,” Corvo barks up at Hinder and when he didn’t move right away he finished with a, “now!” Corvo spots Dearmon just sitting there and then sees the large mark around Brennia’s whole neck. “Hey, Brennia…” when the woman looks up at Corvo with a confused look at the name he looks to Daermon again. “What the hell happened?” He points out the wound on who he thinks is Brennia’s neck and looks away wondering if it was necessary for the vampire to -always- be shirtless because now was not the time to be gawking. He looks at the trail of what looks like bones from a monster leading out the door in a mad trail, “Brennia, what happened here?” Raven tries to correct him, but only a wheezing sound came out since her vocal cords are still in the healing process. A scream is heard down the hallway behind the kitchens and a student is observed running up to a professor in an animated fashion, “there’s a body in that room! So much blood…” Teal tinged eyes glance around at everything as if it’s all new.
Daermon’s voice was soft as he spoke to Corvo. “She’s not Brennia. She’s Raven. And she won’t know who Brennia is, or was, and she likely won’t know us either.” he says, that confused look confirming what he already knew. “Brennia is dead. The bond shattered between us, which can only happen if one of us dies.” he explains, still sitting calmly, still watching. “I don’t know what happened, other than I can smell blood, and wolves. I found her like this.” he says, finally looking away. He rose to his feet, moving up the stairs, one foot trailing some blood from the crushed vial. He returned moments later, dressed fully with a pack slung over his shoulder. He set it down and motioned to Corvo, pulling the man aside. “I don’t know what she is really, for I have heard several things now. I do know that while she wears a familiar face, she is not. And might not have any memories either. She is dangerous, of that I am sure.” he tells the avian.
Raven stands slowly, but it’s wobbly and uncertain like a baby horse trying to walk for the first time. Corvo helps the woman and brings her to a couch to stay put while the men talk. A pitcher of water is spotted and Raven quickly pours herself a glass, but that’s when Corvo noticed something… Her tattoos are gone! Now the campaign manager was looking at Daermon dressed anew and noticing the pack he gives him a scrutinizing glare, “are you leaving? Now?!” He hissed, “what happened to her tattoo mark from Vere?” He was growing frustrated with the constant lack of information he always got from the pair, “what about the campaign? I still need my asset protected!” He was managing to keep his voice down. Raven spots a large ring on her middle finger and her smirk grew, but it didn’t fit. Was it even her own? Her thumb spins it around while slow shaky steps brought her to the large piano within the main hall, all of which unknown to Corvo as he was trying to convince Daermon to stick around. “I know this is probably not ideal for either of you, but I had convinced her to choose you a long time ago and if she trusted you back then, then I do.” Raven, in Brennia’s body looks a little lacking without tattoos and in a way she seems innocent and brand new. Her heart turned cold ages ago, but it darkened due to Brennia’s father as she was hell bent on vengeance. The ink won’t ever be strong enough to make her as alluring or musically powerful as she once was…. But what was power? Raven’s fingertips lightly dance across the piano and it’s serene and beautiful, but not so powerful as when Brennia used to play… matter of fact, it’s just a piano playing with no magical enhancement whatsoever as it seems she’s just a regular old bard now. Either way, Raven seemed happy to be fiddling with such a grand piano and the keystrokes quickened in a flourish, but that loose fitting ring on her middle finger flew off which made her stop. Pushing dark wavy hair behind long pointed ears those teal eyes stare down at the floor to try and find where it had gone to.
Daermon turns his eyes to Corvo, anger and pain filling them. “Of course I’m bloody leaving!” he growls, eyes shining with unshed tears. “And the campaign? I have no idea nor do I care. I was here for Brennia and Brennia alone. That thing, is not Brennia. I don’t know if she cares about your campaign or not, but you cannot possibly think I will stay here, watching that thing wear her face.” he snarls, though it was grief more than anger. They both stop as she begins to play the piano, then the ring was flying off, rolling towards them. Daermon stopped it with his foot, kneeling down to pluck it from the ground as he rose, keeping his eyes off Raven. “Listen Corvo, for all our problems, you were good at what you did. But you can’t be so blind as to confuse that thing and Brennia whether it wears her face or not. The tattoos are gone because they were Raven. Now it’s her body.” he points to the glass and the vial that he had left on the floor. “That was a concoction designed to make the person who drank it forget about Brennia. It has been drunk.” he lets that sink in for a moment. “Talk to her as you want. But I can’t. I can barely look at her. Bren is gone Corvo.” he says, touching his chest. “The only way to break it is death.” he reminds, ring held loosely in his hand.
Raven, the poor woman, was on her knees before the men’s feet still looking for that little ring and Corvo studies the new Brennia for a long moment, “yeah… She seems sooo evil. I get it, but Brennia was doing this to save her home, save the free education she gives and her livelihood. Without this place she would just fade into nothing.” Raven stands up and would sigh frustratedly if she could and those teal eyes spot the ring in Daermon’s hand, but the man looks sad for whatever reason. She hesitantly held out her caramel complexioned hand to silently ask for it back, but was quickly taken away by a healer to work on her throat and sitting her back down to inspect her wound. Corvo watches and puts his hands at his waist in a frustrated manner, “this is a mess, I need a drink…. Well, when she’s healed up I’m going to ask her about where she stands in all this. Investigate that body and try to piece together what happened.” A shrug, “I don’t know. We don’t know what happened, maybe she saved this life. We could be finding a broken bloodied dead Brennia instead…” He is probably going to get punched for this, but, “would that make you feel better?” He glared at Daermon. Quitting when the going gets tough, that’s just not an Avian way.
Daermon was growling low in his throat, like an animal, a beast. Corvo’s words were certainly not helping his troubled mood. “Yes, it would. Because then another…woman, wouldn’t be parading around wearing her face.” he snarls. “Brennia had a lot of hopes and dreams, and now, she’s gone. You do what you want. You have no say over what I do.” he says, turning, only just remembering the ring that Raven had searched for and had come to him to take. It would mean nothing to her…yet, it hurt him to even look at. Much like the body she wore. He took the few steps necessary to reach Raven, though he only drew as close as it took to offer the ring, slick with the blood from his palms to her. If she took it, he would turn and go collect his bag. If she didn’t, he would return it to his pocket and then collect his bag. He couldn’t stay in this place, in her place. He was barely keeping himself together and didn’t, wouldn’t give any here the satisfaction of seeing him weep over his lost love. He gave the room what was to him a final look, stopping for only a moment, swaying on his feet as the grief bubbled up hard inside.
Raven believes the ring was originally her own, it must have been important to sleep with it on, right? Her soft hand reaches up and takes it back from the cold touch of the man and she offers a half smirk that didn’t quite reach those teal eyes which actually seem a little dull with emotion, “merci!” She was finally able to speak and it was a rich velvety sound, but somewhat thick in a Veretian (French) accent. She makes work of cleaning the vampire’s blood from the ring as if it’s no big deal. I mean… She is nearly three hundred years old, she’s seen some stuff. Noticing the man was departing her hand raises up in some odd symbol with her fingers, must be some old Veretian custom, “au revoir!” The writer is hoping that Raven will not speak French because google translation is tedious! Corvo takes a seat before Raven and asks, “Raven?” He continues after she nods once in reply, “can you tell me what happened?” The woman shrugs while saying, “I’m not entirely sure, Mister. Whatever it was must have been awful… maybe I bumped my head and have amnesia.” Big sigh a relief from the writer, but one of the healers chuckle at Raven’s observation because if you had amnesia, you wouldn’t know it right away - that sort of thing needs to be diagnosed. Corvo secretly wishes she just had amnesia and she was still Brennia, that woman was a charmer.
Daermon departs the college that had served as both some of the happiest places and some of the saddest all at once. He made it through only a hallway or so before he simply couldn’t stand being there any longer and allowed the shadows to swarm up and whisk him away, startling a group of students in the process. Time would tell what would happen, but for now, only time could heal his wounds. After all, time healed all...eventually.