RP:Something Inside
Summary: Thamalys gets accidentally ensnared into a bardic spell.
Smyth 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.
Thamalys stepped through the mighty doorway, long, measured strides taken toward the main hall. Entirely swathed in a long, dark green robe embroidered with crimson motifs resembling countless tongues of fire, the Blue had no weapon with him this time. Not even the feathery company of Nebb was anywhere to be seen. Just him it was, holding in some hidden pocket of the silky garment the Black Winged’s missive, very little attention paying to the many onlookers evenly distributed within the vast space ahead. The knotty mass of his ivory-white dreadlocks swayed freely across shoulders and chest alike, and indeed nothing there was to hide that tattooed face, seemingly carved out a single block of white marble. Solid blue eyes piercing the distance, he proceeded toward the grand piano, dreading to ask anybody about the whereabouts of the Headmistress who’s call he answered swiftly enough. Some of the very few Avians within the hall did seem to stare a bit too long, but the Spellblade did not care at all. Furthermore, most eyes would have lowered upon noticing those huge silver-clad wings, a hallmark very few would ever be able to connect to the former Tzur. The left hand of the latter was presently brushing against the uneven surface of the many shelves nested into the walls. He would have loved to spend some time digging into ancient songs novel melodies alike… but the tone of the missive seemed rather urgent, so that he would have not paused more than necessary indeed. Instead, he seemed to glimpse a shade of onyx colour moving swiftly enough at the very end of the hall… he hastened his pace, eager to be of help to whom who helped him recover much of his memories - however painful they turned out to be.
Brennia was having a heck of a time keeping this odd pearlescent black and white decorated saucer size of a goblet drum locked up where it belongs. This time she was able to get away from her returning spring holiday students before another mishap and she gave a relieved sigh when she reached her own empty lecture hall. Liberty blue eyes scan about to only find some abandoned parchment upon even more abounded seats for term has yet to resume and the silence of the empty classroom would have been welcome if it weren't for the sound of the pounding drum in her head. It was like it was calling to her to strike the skin of it all day and it was ignorable if she could only will to put it down, but it was cling tightly to her perky bust after she had to snatch it from a student earlier. Clicking of red bottom pumps descend down the steps of the raised seating room until she was at her desk in the front and she seats herself atop the desk for some reason and fingertips caress over the skin of the drum as if it were her lover. Smooth caramel and tattooed leg crosses over the other under the tight fit of her knee length waist high pencil skirt which her silky blue shirt is tucked into it. Her large velvety wings rest on either side of her but sort of preen under the influence of the drum while she strikes it causing little bumps to raise on her dewy skin from the feel it gives off. The song comes quick with the thought of Wisax on her mind constantly this past week, but it would seem poor Thamalys walked in on this scene in his pursuit of her and liberty blues lock on the man which only intensifies the Bardic magic laced with the feelings the song elicits. The back of her mind and every fiber of her being bids her to stop what she's doing but the drum pushes her to keep going. If she snares the fellow avain, accidentally, with the song he would hear every vowel shaped by supple plump lips and each note seduces the senses as if a caress over the soul. It's easy to see the allure of this Avian other than her charms and looks.
Thamalys kept pacing, this time though definitely dragged by the pull of that throbbing melody in the distance. His eyes stopped to wonder around the vast hall, bewitched by the Black Winged One at this stage not so far away. Most of his thoughts were literally wiped away by her magic, as one could have plainly noticed by the fact it was an apparently quite groggy Avian the one that produced his silvery shapes in front of the Headmistress. Swaying as a whole, dangerously lulled by the harmony, perfectly in tune with the drums sort of punching the rhythm into him like mallets smashing a full line of hazelnuts, the Blue managed at least to come right in front of Brennia. He proceeded to kneel, partly out of respect, but let us not forget that was possibly the easiest thing for him to do, literally bent as he was by the musical enchantment filling the air. “Lady Brennia… you… wanted to see me, yes? I… I came at once…” he would have begun, eyes nailed on the floor, hands trembling the slightest, wings twitching nervously in sync with the beat. “What… I mean, this sound… is that something you teach your students… it is quite a call, indeed…” he sort of stuttered, still squarely crouched, almost unable to speak further. The attire as well as the stance of the Black Winged One did not really help either. The Spellblade was as a rule absolutely unaffected by malice and desire - but that part of him that answered to the Black, presently licking his scaly lips with a dreadful display of lust that made the Blue shiver badly, seemed to have basically fallen into the melodious embrace of the Bard.
Brennia allowed the song to end when he approaches as it is a short song and she needs to put the drum down. Last time they saw each other she was covered from neck to toe in black for their sneaky meeting while her current outfit muchly appreciates every curve of her voluptuous body. She makes a mental note to ease her wings to stop preening as most Avians see that as a flirtation. Slipping off of her desk to stand she reaches around six foot six now versus her usual six foot two due to her stiletto red bottom heels and she folds those lustrous velvety wings close to her curvy frame. “Welcome Thamalys,” she offers in her usual cool and collected sultry alto timbre while that twist of his name being lulled off of such a gilded tongue. She attempts to set the drum on the top of her desk, turning to do so would reveal her best asset accented by her lofty shoes as it seems her wings part just perfectly to do so. A pivot of her feet turn her back to the Blue one and she doesn't realize anything was amiss with him, yet. “It isn't something I teach them, but if they specifically ask I may give them practices to find their way to the voice.” She allows a long pause between them as she can't even remember what she called him for and she didn't suspect him to arrive so soon. A set of sharpened black painted nails caressed through her silky black hair to tuck some of it behind a pointed pierced ear and liberty hues set on the man before her, “if that was a compliment, thank you.” Plump lips curve into a warm smile which expose perfect pearly whites and poking dimples in caramel cheeks, “I appreciate your eagerness to help.” She's trying to stall and remember exactly what she needed help with in the first place.
Thamalys shook his head, trying to at least partially free his mind from the memory of the enchanted song - in vain. In fairness, he would have probably succeeded, was it not for the much unwelcome contribution of the Black, fiercely determined to get to the very source of that thudding melody. “Oh, I… I see…” he sort of stuttered while trying to raise on his feet, his right hand on his knee in the attempt to help with that basic movement that - under the weight of the spell of the Bard - seemed to have required an awful lot of effort. “And yes, of course, I owe you badly since what happened into the Imperial Library… so… this item of yours… the one you told me about in your missive… what is it? May I have an actual look at it?” he went on, not even realising he covered already much of the distance separating the two of them. “By the Wind, that song!” he cried loudly enough, his right hand jerking violently toward her, thick veins standing out from his tattooed skin, to try and seize her shoulder, thumb right above her collarbone, the rest of his bony fingers arched beyond the curve of her neck, for an instant with such a strength enough to originate some actual pain, before something luckily clicked into the Blue’s thoughts. “Apologies… it’s just that… I cannot really distance myself from those drums…” he went on, his hand most likely still on her shoulder, this time though just brushing lightly the skin of her, painting delicate spirals across the tattoos covering that silky surface. || You coward… what is it, silly, are you afraid? I, I demand more of this! || silently growled the Black, slamming his jaws with an awful snap, crimson pupils gleaming ominously within the darkest corner of the Spellblade’s mind. The only result of the mighty fight taking place between Dragon and Avian would have been the surfacing of a thin net of golden streaks in the otherwise solid blue eyes of the Winged Beast, presently nailed on the neck of the Blacked Winged One. He would have dreaded to stare at her in this absolutely inopportune fashion - customarily, and yet the drums kept beating the sense out of the Blue’s reason.
Brennia watched the Avian carefully with those large liberty blue eyes and continues her courteous smile in his grasp for she's not one of the many with aversion to contact, it's welcome. He's a little rough at first, but that's okay. Wherever he is happening to look upon her now is in much better light than the library at midnight and he would notice better detail of her blacker than black ink. His gaze and possibly that of the Ageless Black would be able to see whispers of scars left by lovers: two sets of vampire marks, one Lycan, a feline, a naga and - A dragon. “I believe as Avians we should always be willing to help our brethren. No?” Under his touch to her dewy caramel skin he could possibly feel her heart beating as if a drum, it was still resonating in her own mind. She didn't take him as a musical type and his exclamation about the song earned a surprised quirked brow, “you liked it?” She doesn't think much of him touching her as she stood there a moment in attempts to remind herself why she called him here. She can sense something dark plaguing him and she's drawn to it, but being the siren she is maybe she could help him in a release of the ageless black, who knows. It suddenly dawns on her when she shows him the bracelet on her wrist, “oh yes. This.” She lifts her arm between the narrow space between them and shows him the thin crystalline golden accessory. The outer edge of it is scribed with an ancient Avian language to which has already been attempted to translate, “I understand you have a shaky memory, Thamalys.” Again, his name laced with such a hypnotic melodic tongue. “I thought maybe you might know something about this?” She wouldn't offer to give it to him to inspect as she was surprised the man who let her study it even let her keep it in the first place. She is still quite unaware her song made any impact on him other than the fact he seemed to like it and those liberty blues look up into his shifting eyes with that stone-heart-melting-smile… If one didn't know better you could suspect that everything about this woman was a weapon to weaken stronger men. She sensed that maybe something was off which brings her to ask, “is everything okay, Thamalys?”
Thamalys thought he heard some words leaving the lips of the Headmistress, but in truth he took very little notice. As soon as his long, tattooed fingers were allowed to wander along the silky profile of her skin, the Black stepped eagerly forward, commanding the Spellblade to indulge for a moment on the bowed shape of her shoulder blade, before plunging to probe the full length of her back, hidden by that tempting blue shirt of hers. Black wings in between, the Blue would have reversed swiftly his gesture, leaving the shoulder to lace his hand - in fact, the two of them! - onto her waist first, climbing along her back with the softest of touches, albeit he would have definitely tried to pull the whole of her toward him. His eyes, filled with golden sparks, were still nailed onto her neck, where only presently he seemed to note what did remain of her past lovers. The marks of the Vampire almost managed to bring him back to his senses. He widened his gaze, trembling, a pure shard of loath surfacing in him, so righteous and powerful that even the Black, squarely under the effect of the ever-thudding drums, faltered. “Those marks… Vampire? Is that even… how - could - you…” he groaned while, if allowed, diving his right hand into the dark, velvety feathers of her wings, his left instead trying to find some of her hair cascading on her shoulders, caressing the full length of them slowly enough to vanish the line between pleasure and anticipation. The bracelet stirred his focus elsewhere, though - for an instant, as the Blue - well, the Black - could not care less about any sort of ancient Avian manufact. The left hand of the Spellblade would have thus seized her wrist, shoving the whole of her arm behind her, within that gesture lingering definitely way too long on what laid beyond the fabric. “What do I know about an ancient bracelet, I hear you ask… something, I might, or I may not, who bloody cares, m’lady? That music is all that matters, now… is it not? It beats me, it drives me, it would bring me at your feet… by the Wind, I can hardly recognise myself… what did you do to me? Can you make it stop - please…” he implored that little of the Avian that survived the will of the Black, before the latter took control again, possibly never to flinch again. “Or not… maybe I do not want it to stop… maybe I shall pray for it to last till the very end, when the two of us will lay together like molten wax after the fire… why, m’lady, I do not think I ever felt better…” actually concluded the Blue with a loud laughter that very little had to do with the usual speech of the Spellblade. To aggravate the scene, ominous pools of crimson would have blossomed within his eyes, while the Winged Beast would have forgotten himself, giving too large a fraction of his soul away to the Black. He sank his head there where that number of marks already could be found, unraveling a double row of pearly white teeth, ready to eventually savouring that caramel once and for all. Something very, very similar to a proper growl built up from the inner of the Avian, soiling the melody still beating within his mind - too late…
Brennia is brave and usually bold, but advances such as his would have been taken in better stride if she didn't know better or if her pining feelings weren't for another Avian man. But, oh! How she wanted that man she wants to passionately respond to her as such and she could easily get lost in this moment and possibly pretend it's him. She's drawn into Thamalys causing him to feel the pliable build of her curvy frame and his wandering hands upon her back causing a subtle shiver and tiny bumps rising on her soft skin. She tries to answer his question about the vampire bites, “I could because I'm not stuck in ancient times like our ancestors… I could because it feels good.” It's not like they can be turned or anything and giving blood was such an erotic experience for her. His fingers found her feathers and a soft gasp comes from her as some Avians wings are sensitive especially in the certain spot he's in. Touching an Avians wings could even be a serious flirtation from their society, but if another Avain plucked a feather from another it means a deeper feeling than lust. “Thamalys,” his name was barely a whisper and for the first time since she got her lock tattoo he may see she also struggled with something dark. Watching his eyes shift she could nearly feel her own stunning blue eyes ink over into the blackest of black. A slow blink and it vanishes, she wins… This round. She's done this before and has had to deal with accidental lust like this when her smile returned along with the calm of her sultry timbre, “my Avian brother… I am sorry.” Soft silky hands place on either sides of his face to gently force him to look into her eyes. “But you do not feel anything for me. It's just a song and this will fade. I look forward to a friendship with you, Thamalys.” This next part might be a little testing to the attempts to calm him down, but who knows as she remembers the name said by the Elf back at The Imperial Library, “I am also sorry for what you discovered with the events after… Korkorhan.” This would be the dragon's name, no? And we've all seen how she turns a name into a lullaby and weaker men dream of nothing but those shapely plump lips repeating their title over and over until it drives them mad while stronger beings might at least want a desire to stop and listen for a moment. She made a horrid and evil sounding name sound like… Well, sex. His head lowered into her neck which earned another subtle shiver and she can hear The Raven whisper in her mind, ‘yes… Bite me. Maim me!’ Brennia cleared her throat as her own hands found his in order to gently pull herself from him. “Thamalys, you just need to sleep it off. It will dwindle with time. You are welcome to a quiet room here in the dorms?” She gently offers.
Thamalys was desperately trying to fight against the mighty lust of the Ageless Black, the latter being utterly oblivious to each and every one of the remarks leaving the lips of the Headmistress. “Just… a song… why, I do not care about the reason why… I just… let me!” would have roared the Blue, eyes reduced to narrow slits behind which a ruby gleam only could be witnessed, his right hand inches away from the neck of the Countess, silvery wings unfurling to a dreadful extent as to highlight the unworldly amount of passion the drums managed to unleashed. However, the moment the Black heard his own name the whole of his lust immediately transform in outrage. “How - dare - you utter my name, silly bird!” growled the Winged Beast in a monstrous voice that was not his own, the hand threatening to seize the throat of the Bard presently dripping droplets of flaming ink, only, to the surprise of what did remain of the Spellblade, unmistakably of a pitch black shade, as opposed to his customarily deep blue hue. At that sight, the Avian recoiled, literally leaping backwards: the horror of having the Black taking the lead to the point of being able to change the texture of his very blood… that was too much - with a long, painful sigh, the Spellblade crushed those fangs back to a remote corner of his thoughts, a most painful process he nonetheless managed to accomplish for the sake of self-preservation. “No... I mean, I am sorry, I did not mean a word of that... that was not me, I am sure you can understand... ah, sleep it off… as if was - that - easy…” he muttered, this time in a soft, deep tone which indeed belonged to the Blue only, the latter now raising both of his trembling hands in front of his face, the last of the black droplets falling on the marble floor. He raised his head, solid blue eyes filled with both fury and shame. “You should be more careful with those bloody songs of yours, m’lady. Now I am left with an Old Dragon to tame within me, and an awful lot of bitter remorse for my actions to deal with. Pray keep this unfortunate… accident, that is, for yourself only, yes?” he asked of her in a tone that in fairness admitted one answer only. “If you need me to look at that bracelet, send it to me - to Frostmaw, in the hope that its icy skies will manage to bury the shame of today. Now. Good day to you…” he concluded, fuming, all manners of outrage and fury in his speech. He had more than enough of alchemists and bards alike, playing with his passions like mad puppeteers - in truth, were it not for the debt he still held toward the Countess, the departure of the Blue would have been much, much more cumbersome. And yet, despite the rage and the shame, he remembered his own words clearly enough. As such, he turned swiftly on his heels, wings furling, a brisk gesture of salutation offering to the Black Winged One - and nothing more. Not once he would have looked back, not even if called back somehow.
Brennia watched the man carefully allowing her hands to slip from his own now and she finally pieced together exactly what it was Thamalys was struggling with. Cordial and political she learned it all long ago, “Many apologies Sir Thamalys.” No matter the tone her subtle accent continues to twist names up in romance, but the Ageless Black would find that when he aimed to choke her it would not elicit the desired effect. Brennia’s eyelids flutter as they roll back while pointed black nails press lightly atop the man’s forearm as if egging him on to do so harder and she can hear Raven giggling menacingly in her mind, she likes the Ageless Black. It ends and she collects her thoughts once more with a deep breath. She blinks slowly in gathering the things he was saying to her now in his normal voice when those striking blue eyes rest upon Thamalys, “I agree. This melody was not intended for any to hear as we are all dealing with darker deeds than we would like to admit,” a gentle tone added to her gaze resting on him in a way to say she understands this struggle. She was still blushing from the rough way he just handled her, but she remains neutral to the event, “Again, I apologize. I’m to blame,” a single bow of her head to his request as her reply was her answer to indicate it was already forgotten, “what accident?” Oh right, the bracelet… She won’t be doing that, but says nothing more on the subject and as she watches him depart, “my willingness to assist you in the future still remains. I will be seeing you,” seems she won’t be scared off that easily.