RP:Schezerade Campaigning Pt 2

From HollowWiki

Part of the Vakmatharas' Jar Arc

Previously...



Summary: Senatorial Candidate Smyth and her bodyguard show Corvo the space they've created for a campaign office.


Daermon arched an eyebrow at Brennia, then shook his head as they went about their business after the would be assassin. ‘Are you purposefully trying to make me dislike this man?’ he asks again. It was one thing to know about her with another, or whatever they used to do. Another to see her hanging on another man. Jealousy was funny that way though. Corvo offered the arm, not having an agenda in irritating Daer, but also not caring and she was going to technically be his boss so…They finished up at the shops and made their way back to the college to see the headquarters. Daermon stopped worrying about Bren and Corvo and kept his gaze peeled for assassins.


Brennia smiles up at Corvo while they talk about the premises her and Daermon made up for a campaign office all the while also talking with Dearmon, ‘this is avian culture. Things like this aren’t such a big deal, but what you should be worried about are wings and feathers. When someone touches them it’s intimate because hey are sensitive to touch. Even more so when someone yanks one. Exchanging of feathers is another very intimate event, but it can also mean intent to harm if one is stolen,’ then she remembered the blonde one hidden within her own. Once Corvo gets distracted by something she reached up into her wings that have been folded all this time and parted some feathers… there it is. She frees the blonde feather and turns to look at Daermon with feather in hand until her grip becomes looser and looser causing the large blonde feather to float away on the wind, but her gaze didn’t move from Daermon. He would not pick up on rejection, hurt, or sadness from this action of letting go - just disappointment. They continue on and once there is no one around on the trail to the college, “about your question earlier… I am from Vere. When we get to the office I’ll tell you all about it.” Entering the college and then exiting out onto the courtyard until they are lost in the gardens of it, seemingly. The come upon a staff house, a glass greenhouse and another marble structure that looks like it was for storage, “Daermon and I worked the past couple days on cleaning it out and adding desks,” she opens the double doors into the fantastic structure which is built to fit their purpose.


Courtyard

Off of the to the west of the vast Main Hall through large paned glass doors you come to a large cobblestoned and marble walled courtyard, but it is not without a bit of vines growing along the walls and a couple large old trees somehow planted in the two centers of the courtyard. The outdoor area here is just as long as the main hall, but narrower by half which is still saying quite a bit for the area. The front half seems to be dedicated to painting and recreation as there are some lounges, easels and tables about if some of the students decide to enjoy their meals outside on nice days. The back half is arranged as a training area adorned with some weapons and dummies next to a few obstacles.



Daermon found the yanked feather with his gaze as it fluttered away, before his eyes snapped back to hers. A small smile was given before they moved back to the business at hand. He moved in behind the pair, into their new campaign headquarters. There were neat rows of desks with parchment and quills, all manner of writing utensils, for anything from letters to signs. The back section had been walled off into an office that had Senator Smyth written upon the glass of the door. Not official, but a hopeful title, and motivation for all who would be a part to see it. “Obviously the office is Brennia’s. We set aside a bigger desk out on the floor for you Corvo.” Daermon explains, pointing out one that was at the head of the rest, close to Brennia’s office, but still a little less in all the ways one might think. Even his chair seemed a bit less comfortable. Corvo eyed the room critically with that hawk's gaze and nodded in approval. “A good start, a nice space. Yes, I think this will be a fine headquarters for the change we seek.”


Brennia smiled back secretly to Daermon before entering the storage warehouse that was within the courtyard. A glance to Daermon to ensure the three of them are, indeed, alone and once he conforms such she would begin filling Corvo in on things Daermon already knows, “I am from Island Vere. Those who hail from their wear their house on their skin and the larger and more intricate tattoo pattern you show, the higher up in society you are from.” He could easily assume she is royalty, but, “on Island Vere the ruler is referred to as not a king or queen, but Count or Countess. My former title was Countess Brennia Smyth de Vere… If we are to be working together you should know this and the fact I renounced that title ages ago because that is not my home any longer. The Count residing there now, Quillion, is ruling without issues and used to be a dear friend of mine.” Only Daermon knows this is a lie because as far as Brennia knows Raven made her kill him and run from the Island. “At my time of rising to power I did not feel ready to, but anything I said against it would have been viewed as defacing the crown and being sent away. So, I wanted to choose where I went and ran away on my own. Not many people know of this and I would like to keep it that way.”


Daermon did indeed know the truth from the lies, but it wasn’t his place to call her on them. Sometimes a comforting lie is better than an ugly truth. Corvo listened, having an excellent poker face, nodding here or there. “Island Vere eh. And here I always thought it a myth.” he admits. “Good to know that you are likely better educated than most who attain a seat then. But we shall see. I’ve never been one to be impressed by lands or titles. Actions are what concern me. Look at dear Vermillion. Wealthy, tons of land, high standing and a horrible person, ill fit to rule, aside from his pedigree.” he points out. “Still though...Vere...imagine that.” he says, smiling for a moment before turning back to business. “Well, let us hope you don’t run away from us if we get to be too much for you.” he points out, which made Daer frown. The other male had a scathing tongue that riled the vampire a bit...but then, he was talking that way to Daer’s birdie so...perhaps it was more who he was speaking to and not what he was saying. He kept himself in check though and they moved on to logistics. Corvo outlined their need for solid individuals, some hopefully that had been a part of a campaign before. They would need money, backing. Things were going to move very fast now.


Brennia doesn’t say anything, but instead calms Daermon through their bond with a long glance to him. Going along with the outline of things they need Brennia would bring up the fact that a lot of college students have signed on to volunteer at the college and are willing to help anyway they can. As far as money Brennia admits, “I do have that, but I don’t think it will look too good if I am pouring my own money to this. People might also think I am stealing from the college funds. So, maybe we throw a benefit and it won’t matter how much we actually raise because I can pad it with my own investment secretly that way. I could also ‘gift’” air quote motion, “you and Daermon some gold to sign on with a donation as benefactors towards the cause.”


Daermon did calm, though he wasn’t about to keep following Corvo around the room like a distracted magpie. He pulled up a seat, putting booted feet up on the desk. Corvo nodded to Brennia. “Good! The young people are the future after all, good that so many are eager to see the change. And your idea is wonderful. A benefit, yes, Daermon and I could indeed sign on as benefactors. We must be careful though, lest something come to light later about it.” he cautions. “We don’t want to give people reason to doubt you. So caution.” he says and as he walked by, he pushed Daer’s boots off his desk. It made Daer sit up straight, but he didn’t protest, he had done it intentionally after all. “What about you?” Corvo asks, turning to Brennia. “Is there anything you need that you might find difficult to manage at this time?”


Brennia’s gaze lingers on Dermon for a moment after Corvo’s question and she’s having an internal conversation with neither of them, but herself. Eventually she answers, “not about campaigning, no. I remember that old song and dance from my father… But I may need a little help differentiating between royalty duties and political ones.” A shrug, “if it seems like I know it all that is just because of my upbringing, but I am not so arrogant that I cannot be corrected. I am pliable to your instruction and suggestions, Corvo.” Some men would probably love to hear a woman that looks like this say these words, but this was strictly professional. “We should probably meet with Hudson, Queen of Frostmaw, and get a feel for who is running Alithrya,” she felt a little tight in the suits they’ve been given temporarily as she feels a little snug, “I think our focus should be fixing these curses that way I get support from the lands below as well? I shall call a summit.”


Daermon kept his gaze on hers, but let her speak. “Many differences. You’re running for public office. You have no birthright to help hold you here. The whim of the people. And the people can be fickle, lied to, tricked.” Corvo points out. “And most importantly, it's still a job. An important job to be sure, but just a job. I don’t want you to burn out before we even get started.” he says, seeing her fidget with her suit. “You also could stand to cut down on what you’re eating. You’re looking a bit plump.” There was a snarl of anger from the chair and Corvo was suddenly flying...though it was only due to the fact he was being lifted from the ground by the throat at the end of Daermon’s hand. “I think that was the final line.” he growls as the avian male clutched the hand holding him, kicking almost comically as he gasped for breath.


Brennia chuckled softly at the suggestion and even though she appeared to be unbothered by the comment Daermon would feel the doubt between his rage through their bond. She went to retort to Corvo, “rather be plu-” whatever it was got cut short and quick as a whip she was trying to pull the muscular vampire off Corvo and hopefully she was successful while she spoke freely without the bond. Uncaring if it was indecent, “Dearmon, stop.” Her timbre soothing and oddly calm, “it matters not to me what he thinks of my figure. I will do what I wish. It is only your opinion that matters to me,” her warm hands found the cool chiseled features on the sides of his face in attempts to calm him physically and through their bond. Once she got Daermon to back down she turned to Corvo and there may be a little bard spell of cowardice laced in her words, “I will do as I please with my body, Corvo. My curves mean I am healthy and if I am perfectly honest it is to hide the muscle underneath because if it weren't for Dearmon, it might be my hands at or neck for that misogynistic comment.” Her fake smile spreads brilliantly across her face, “so we can continue to work peacefully together I need you to tell me you understand my words, Corvo.” Just how she can twist someone’s name up in taboo and allure with her Veretian accent she can flip the coin to make someone’s name sound harsh and like the worst curse word they’ve ever heard.


Daermon reluctantly let the man drop rather than easing him to the floor. He would follow Bren’s lead after all. Corvo sputter, raking his hair back, indignant, but not foolish enough to think he could fight the vampire, though he finds it’s Brennia before him. Her spell snares him easily and he nods. “Yes, I understand.” he answers, glaring at the vampire as he rubbed his neck. “I think we should call it quits here for the day.” he suggests, trying to regain his control, his measure. Corvo was learning, slowly, that he was not going to be the puppeteer to this woman and it was making him slowly, grudgingly, respect her. He couldn’t resist one more barb for the vampire though. “Let us hope that you are so fast against any attack, not just ones concerning weight.” he clicked, feathers bristling as he turned to leave.


Brennia only nodded once at Corvo and his departure, she didn’t expect the men to apologize and shake hands or anything. Once he left and it was just her and Daermon she smirks at him, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you like that. Protective, in that way.” She nears him and would meet their space halfway, maybe a little hesitant, but wouldn’t protest to him closing that distance between them entirely. “You might hear worse things about me though,” concern furrows her brow, “I am sorry for the predicament I have put you in. Please remember what I said?” A tilt of her head when deep blues seek out those light blue ones, “I only care what you think of me. The public will be shown a different side of me and that side will matter to them.” She would attempt to reach out a hand to him, “only you will know me. Only that matters.”


Daermon would not be apologizing to Corvo as the avian left, his last barb earning a growl that might have quickened his step. “Likely no, you have not seen me protective like that.” he agrees as he closes the last little bit of space between them. “And I will do better to keep my anger in in the future. That was...a lapse.” he admits. “I am sorry.” he tells her. “What are you sorry for?” he asks. “And you know what I think of you. The world.” he admits easily.