RP:THE E.L. Landon!
Summary: Brennia gets to spend some quality time with E.L. Landon and in hopes made a quick friend, but Miss Landon also borrows her chef, Zachael.
OOC Note: E.L. Landon is being NPC’d by Hudson
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 its 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 two 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.
Brennia is within the main hall of the college rather unimpressively with her hair thrown up in a messy bun and a sketching pencil tucked away on one of her elongated pointed ears. She’s been working on a wine bottle all day and she empties the rest in a smooth crystal stemless goblet, but why she's felt the nerve to drink in the middle of the day on her only day off this week is secret to her. She's wearing some old tee shirt with bold letters of ‘S.C.B.A.’ across her bust which looks tattered at it's cut off edge falling just before her midriff and a pair of simple black cotton leggings that hug tightly at her wide hips. She is lounging upon one of the many couches near the grand fireplace while reading some play screens for the upcoming semester that one of the professors are thinking about doing, but they wanted the headmistress’ opinion first. Sitting up at the entrance of Zachael who was asking if she wanted another bottle and she smiles while politely asking for another, yes, perfect. Pushing the spectacles up the bridge of her nose so those glossed over blue eyes can go back to reading she lets out a longing sigh, but for the life of her cannot understand why.
E.L. had made Hudson arrange this meeting, which Brennia may have forgotten about, given her current state of relaxation. E.L. had been very impressed with Brennia at her son's wedding, but of course had been a bit sloshed at the time of, so had basically described her to her son as 'the tall and gorgeous brown-skinned woman with wings - the one with the adventurous stories.' At the time, Hudson had bug eyed. Not exactly wanted to learn any more about his mum's conversation with Brennia, gods forbid his mum might have shared some stories about herself. He had however, after dutifully steering the conversation into safe territory, sent a letter to the College, and made an appointment for E.L. to personally call upon wedding-guest-and-muse Brennia. E.L. is wearing a very smart black dress and channeling her best Demi Moore (she gets all the magical enhancements to look as young as she can). She has been shown in by one of Brennia's household staff, not Zachael, for she encounters him next. "Hello! The woman I just spoke to," she means the woman who had let her in, "just told me that Miss Smyth might be out today. I'm told to see you about re-booking?" Yes, Brennia's staff are good people in that they cover for her when she decides to get drunk midday!
Brennia heard Zachael stumble over his bad common through bits of that romantic Veretian language. The head chef’s cheeks darkened a shade nervously while taking in the sight of the beauty before him, “Madame Smyth is-uh… Available.” He was speaking a bit slower through his thick accent and held up a wine bottle of black fire wine. He's been living with Brennia for nearly two years now and understands her tolerance and at best she's tipsy. Large and pillowy soft looking stark white wigs seem to preene under the woman's presence and once Zachael leads the way to Brennia who glances to the newcomer, “merry meet and wel-” A double-take, eyes widen and her own cheeks darken now when she snatches her ugly glasses off her own face. “M-miss Landon,” Brennia gasped out while standing and wrapping her arms around her own bare midriff. One thing that wasn't visible the day of Alvina's wedding were those tattoos of hers and Brennia was suddenly very conscious of the fact her attire is severely lacking compared to THE E.L. Landon. Able to somehow keep her cool through her own thoughts of ‘by the gods, E.L. Landon is here, in my home’ and she walked around the love seat she had been lounging on in order to formally greet her idol. “I do bid you welcome. Do come in and make yourself at home. Would you enjoy a drink?” She would give a sort of sweet look to Zachael in silently asking him to get E.L. Landon anything she wanted. Brennia gave a sort of half curtsy/bow with fist over her heart and then sort of looked down at her own poor attire, “I’m terribly sorry about this. The day sort of got away from me while reading these scripts.” A sort of soft chuckle escapes her.
E.L. | "Oh. Well then," says E.L. succinctly in a sort of pleasant yet patrician manner. She allows Zachael, whom she finds to be a handsome piece of decor, to lead her through the castle to Brennia. Miss Smyth is looking very relaxed. Her son would love this outfit. E.L. smiles reflexively, endeared by the whole scene, especially the wine. She's a single mom and gets a woman's need to decompress with a bottle of wine sometimes. She's been doing a lot of decompressing herself of late, ever since her long-time centaur boyfriend and her called it quits. Quite sad, that. Anyway, it's time to move her work on from centaurs. E.L. laughs at the other woman's attempt to apologize for what she's wearing. "Don't be ridiculous. You look very chill, as Huds would say," she says. "I would love a glass of wine! What are we drinking? Do you mind if I sit?" She assumes the answer is yes, smooths her dress under her as she lowers herself onto the loveseat.
Brennia takes a seat in an armchair adjacent to E.L. while saying, “not at all, please do,” and even from such proximity the woman would be able to pick up notes of her favorite scent coming from the Avian, but of course she also would have picked it up from Zachael as well. Zachael disappears in order to fetch the really good wine that has been aged and kept for special occasions. Brennia practically sits on her own wings to keep them from preening and shifting nervously, “I was happy to hear from Hudson. Hope all is well,” she remembers vaguely that his letter was not very detailed and she wonders if Hudson gabbed about how she went all ‘fan-girl’ over E.L. being his mother. Oh, if he did that it would be so embarrassing and she just might have to kick him, maybe she’d wear this outfit as a distraction. “Zachael, my chef and dear friend, went to get a better bottle of wine. I like to drink this sort of weak blackfire wine that I used to practically live off of back in my Hanging Corpse days when I paid for my room with song.” A sort of self deprecating chuckle at this fact, but it was obvious she never really had to live off song as she seemed so at home in the luxury of her castle and Schezerade. By now Zachael returns with the good stuff and an extra goblet as he proceeds to pour E.L. a glass, but he is trying to say something in Veretian to the woman while motioning to the wine he put down on the coffee table near her. Brennia smiles sweetly before translating, “he’s suggesting that you let the wine breathe for a minute before drinking.” She is watching his wings preene and his blushing before he bows halfway, leaving the rest of the bottle and disappearing into the kitchens. She leans in a little toward her and lowers her voice as if she’s sharing some big secret, “if I may be so bold, when an Avian’s wings shift slightly like that it means they are flirting in our culture.”
E.L. rolls her eyes on the subject of her son. "He is good. Of late, trying to do all this real estate mogul nonsense these days, and helping his friend run for mayor of Cenril, he never makes time for me unless it's to ask me to babysit. You know they're having another one," she complains good naturedly. "I much preferred it when he had that easy job making pharmaceutical reagents. It paid well and was not as taxing." Ah, yes, the ignorance of a loving mother. She leans her chin on her wrist to listen to Brennia, pausing in her attention to murmur a word of thanks to Zachael when the man returns with the wine. "Oh, this must be the good stuff," she jokes. "What a beautiful language," E.L. comments further, watching the back of him depart. She swings her gaze once more to Brennia, her eyes widening at the suggestion that the young chef had been flirting with her. What follows is... a bit like when Taylor Swift is surprised. "Oh really?" she asks. As if she hadn't been flirting with men younger than Hudson at his wedding. E.L. isn't a cougar per se, she just lives her best life and throws out a line sometimes to see what'll bite. "Well, he's very handsome," she says to Brennia. "I think Hudson would lose his mind if I hired a man like that to work around my house. He would instantly jump to a certain conclusion! Has your chef been with you very long?”
Brennia was slowly getting used to the idea that her idol was sitting here just shooting the shit with her, but distracted a half a second when Zachael can he heard going on a rant in the kitchen at his sous chefs. Brennia’s face shifts to an apologetic one, “he's been training some chefs we decided to hire for the new semester. He's been under a lot of pressure lately since I let him see the roster for the fall and he realized it was double the people.” He continues on in background berating his subordinates with what E.L. can only assume to be curse words and vulgar insults, very Gordo Pamsay. Brennia clears her throat gently, “aw, well. It's none of his business what you do in your spare time,” those plump lips spread into a smirk. “Zachael? Well, back on my home island he was one of the few children let in the castle because his father was the head chef there. We sort of grew up together, but one of the times I visited my homeland he begged me to take him back to Lithrydel with me. He only wanted to work for a Smyth and not whatever crackpot they found after my family was decimated.” She didn't know why she just rambled on like that, “um… But he's been my personal chef for two years now.” A sort of nervous chuckle before she drank from her wine. “Him and I look quite young, but he's a hundred and twenty while I'm eight years older than that.” Brennia crossed one leg over the other, “so… Madame E.L. What is it that I can do for you?” A quirk of her brow with a playful tone to her sultry alto timbre, “you want to borrow my chef?”
E.L. pouts a little at the alleged trials and tribulations of Zachael, handsome avian chef. "Aw. The poor lad, he does seem to be working on it, though," she remarks, drinking from her wine, her eyebrows rising as Brennia spins the tale of how Zachael came to be here, with Brennia. "I very much love a displaced royalty story, I find them very romantic," confides the author, her gaze spinning with a certain older woman's charm. She drinks again, a small mouthful, and then laughs musically at the suggestion the other woman's put to her before responding: "Very funny. I could never take him from you, he seems so happy here and devoted to you. Miss Smyth, I wanted to pick your brain for a new romantic theme for my next series. I think I am going to move on from centaurs." She thins her lips in a careful smile before continuing. "For many years I had a creative muse and consultant for the Fifty Shades of Neigh series. He was a centaur. We were quite close." Weighty pause. "But recently we have parted ways, and I'm afraid it's time to move on. You were simply bubbling over with ideas at the wedding, I recall?"
Brennia nods, “he is just as passionate about food as I am music and teaching.” She relaxes even further in her chair before mentioning, “and you know what they say about a passionate man.” Wine in hand and sipping it while listening to E.L. and slowly but surely Brennia started blushing. She wants -her- ideas as a muse, but the news of her breakup was breaking her own heart. Free and over heart Brennia says, “oh… Miss Landon. I'm sorry.” Understanding now exactly what she was asking and she thought for a moment, “that? I was just mentioning how The Siren was my inspiration for so many years and how it brought me so many nights of unbridled love making.” A smirk remains on her lips after taking in some more wine, “a lover you can really sink your teeth into. When I first came to Lithrydel I made a friend and saved him from a Lycan slaver and became a slave to him in replacement.” She pulled the collar of her cotton tee shirt to show the scars that meddle in her tattoo markings about her traps, “after a month I convinced him to free me because I was able to get him to fall in love with me…. Then I found vampires…. Male or female, it is amazing what those soulless creatures can show you in ways of passion, but breaking the hold on one of those permanent bonds… That was one of the hardest things I've had to get over.” She fills her own wine glass and offers to top of E.L.’s goblet as well, “I’m sorry… I got a little carried away. It's just, your stories have always been an inspiration to me.”
E.L. waves off any sympathy regarding her recent break up with her former creative consultant/hunky centaur. Truth be told, now that she's out of that relationship she's starting to realize how stressful it was. A bit of a selfish realization, that, but they could never go out to eat, for example, because ... he was half horse. After a while being a perpetual social justice warrior for centaur rights and equal treatment tires even the most liberal of erotic novel authors. "Please please, let's hear about you," she encourages Brennia. E.L. listens intently as the other woman speaks, sipping from her wine all the while. Her eyes widen slightly at 'lycan' slaver. Maybe she's done with the SJW on behalf of centaurs, but her son and grandchildren are all werewolves. Because she and Brennia are new friends, she resists the urge to cut in and ask, Was there a particular reason why the race of the slaver need be mentioned? She's glad she's held off, because it turns out the race is important, and that the lycan was the first stop on Brennia's grand tour among the races of Lithrydel. She clears her throat as Brennia refills her glass. "Well I can imagine it's quite intimate to drink someone's blood," she remarks, lifting her eyebrows. "I thought about a werewolf series, but I put the project on hold after Hudson. Too weird. Maybe a vampire, though..."
Brennia was getting a little more comfortable now and is so bold to sit next to E.L. on the loveseat. Wine in hand she continues sharing, “well… I can understand that. But getting that beast to come out mid action…” her grin widens and she knows the woman could only imagine what would happen to a man if he shifted during. “Yes, the feeding. At first is a painful prick, but you feel yourself draining out of you and for a moment you are one bringing on this sort of euphoria. Your souls intertwine and some vampires can read your mind when they do this, so if you think of whatever you want from them they just do it directly.” A soft and short chuckle before she continues, “nagas and dragons are quite an adventure as well, but something I've always enjoyed was in flight lesions.” She glances up to Zachael who was holding a tray of decadent gourmet hors d'oeuvres. He says something which sounds like an apology with the bow of his head and pristine white hair falls in his golden eyes, but Brennia waves the apology away, “Zachael I didn't get a chance to properly introduce the illustrious E.L. Landon, E.L. this is head chef Zachael, of course.” Zachael would smile before setting the tray down for them and would take the woman's hand, if she allowed, in order to bow while placing a kiss upon the top of her hand. He mentions something about ‘Fifty Shades of Neigh’ and she can rest assured it's nothing but good things. He’s being summoned back into the kitchen and E.L. can watch as his charming smile turns down into a scowl before bidding them farewell and turning on his heel so he can storm back there. “He was apologizing for the racket and his temper while offering some of his creations.” Okay so maybe Zachael has a thing for cougars.
E.L. listens attentively, drinking from the well of her glass, as Brennia elaborates on her experiences. Despite her reasonably racy resume, E.L. had been monogamous for quite some time with her centaur lover. She very gratefully takes some of the hors d'oeuvres, smiling with her eyes at the chef. "Delicious, thank you, Zachael" she says, beaming as the man takes her hand to press a kiss against it. "He is just darling," she tells Brennia, before popping the second small bite into her mouth. "You've never taken him as a lover?" she asks the avian, once she's washed her food down with more wine. "I feel like when you get to be my age - or maybe you understand, actually - you get into the habit of doing whatever you like. As I like to say, 'you already have the no,' which is to say, if you never go after something, then you will never get it." She lifts her eyebrows over her drink. "But why shouldn't my new series feature avians?" she muses aloud.
Brennia nods once in agreement, “exactly.” She would hold her goblet out for a toast before answering the woman's question, “hm… No, but that's probably because we act more like cousins or brother and sister.” No one can replace Des’Monde the second, but Zachael comes really close to family for her. “He's always been supportive of my phases. Like when all I did was eat sleep drink and have relations. Or now, where we have turned this castle into a college.” She smirks, “Avians? Yeah, there is a lot about us which are a mystery to most races. The shifting wings for example is a blatant flirt. If you steal a feather from a set of wings and keep it that means you mean to court them, but if you crush it that means you are enemies. If an Avian pulls a feather from their own wings and offers it to you that means you have their heart. Some sports on wings when you massage or grab them causes arousal.” She pulled one of her own wings around herself and at this close proximity E.L. would be able to see how hypnotic they were and how they reflect hues of navy blues and forest greens. “You can read a lot about how an Avian’s feelings just by watching their wings.” There was a crash in the kitchen that causes Brennia to flinch with surprise. One of the sous chefs seems to have dropped a tray something and this sets the chef off once more, “you know… Zachael could probably use a break before term starts up in September… Maybe you should ask him to come with you whenever you decide to leave. He can cook for you and he always does good about ‘cleaning up’.” Her smirk widens in her suggestion which pokes one dimple in her caramel cheek.
E.L. smiles knowingly at the reference to 'phases.' She envies Brennia the freedom to have phases, she'd been busy raising Hudson during the years she'd have liked to have phases. She's asked about Avians though, and she cants her head to listen as Brennia explains further. "I would think plucking a feather from someone would be rude," she remarks, her eyes widening at the feathery show Brennia puts on. The author claps, delighted. "You are so very beautiful as a people, I hope that isn't wrong of me to say," she remarks. She looks in the direction of the crashing sound that interrupts them, and then titters into her wine glass. "Oh please," she murmurs, drinking deeply, until the wine's finished. She sets the emptied goblet on a nearby end table. "I can't just bring him home like a rescue animal," she tells Brennia, like the other woman's made a naughty suggestion. "You are so bad," she says, wagging a finger.
Brennia blushes deeply at the compliment THE E.L. LANDON grants her as shy, “thank you,” seeps out from plump lips. If you complimented just about any other Avian they would merely accept it as fact, but Brennia is a different breed. She smirks and something dark about her stirs. Possibly that inky problem that Hudson helped her with starts to shine through a bit. The intricate ink pattern which seems to cover nearly every inch of that dewy caramel skin twitches just for a half a second while her thoughts get carried away, “why not? Pets can be great protectors. There was a time where I had certain beastly characters to protect me and my castle as my ‘pets’... They were fed well, housed with their own rooms, and cared for like you would any other pet. Giving them attention...” She fell quiet in the suggestion, but that something else was snuffed out like a candle. Brennia thought those days were behind her and much further than they were, but the Favoured Wing on the second floor would prove otherwise. This Avian is, or was, a hunted woman and she needed these ‘pets’ at some point. Taking a moment to enjoy an hors d'oeuvres and some wine she tracks back to the subject at hand, “I mean to say… He needs some sort of get-away fun and stress relief while you have the perfect opportunity to experience Avian passion first hand… I only want to assist the woman who inspired me for so many years in whatever way I can”
E.L. pours herself more wine, her delicate eyebrows arched as Brennia explains about having 'pets,' which sounds a little... well, you know. Brennia is quite the adventurous 'young' woman. The idea for an avian love series indeed begins to take root in E.L.'s mind. Instead of one love interest, there are many. Their conversation is coded, but E.L. blushes into her wine glass as Brennia insists and even praises her work. "Well," she says airily. "I suppose if he wants to have a little 'vacation' that is working for little old me, I won't fight either of you." Her eyes widen, as if she's startling herself. It's the wine, in vino veritas! She adjusts her shawl and then fans herself. "My goodness. I feel like it just got warm spontaneously," she remarks. "Or is that just me?"
Brennia glanced up as Zachael was storming out from the back of the hall, away from the kitchens and covered in some soup of which must have been the loud bang previously. “Excuse me, if you will, Miss Landon,” the Avain stands in order to address the other Avain and one could easily tell that at first he was cursing furiously through clenched teeth, but eventually his timbre was on the more intrigued and surprised side of things. It doesn’t take much convincing and by the end of the conversation the Avain man was blushing again out of flattery. When Brennia saunters back over, Zachael can be seen disappearing behind a secret corridor on the second floor, “one of the sous chefs is quite talented, but also quite a clutz. He’s going to clean up.” She finds her place next to E.L. once more while stating, “so it is settled then. Zachael will go back with you in the traveling coach and he will come back in it within a few weeks once term starts back up.” A smirk at Miss Landon when she’s getting all flustered over Zachael, “it is you.” At this she winks, this was a blatant flirt, but it is always nice when a woman can compliment another, no? Brennia relaxes once more and delves into more ‘Tales of The Lusty Avian Bard’, like the time she was locked in a dungeon to control her Inky/Raven side up and a handsome Avian man kept her company through the detox. The story was coming to a close with a, “... and then, I was sitting there on that same bench in the gardens when he had come up behind me. First his kissing was innocent and light at the apple of my cheeks, but as his kisses started to linger and caress they lowered to the soft spot on my neck. His one hand became lost in the forest of my hair and just as he tugged back on my pony tail with a playful nip to my neck his free hand smoothed over the fabric of my pants all the way up until he was lost under the loose fit of my cotton shirt to grab a handful of…” Liberty blue eyes widen a bit at Zachel descending the stairs. His hair was feathered back and combed over on the top giving him a sort of retro dapper look. The outfit he was wearing seemed to mirror elements of E.L.’s and the chosen colors brought out the amber flecks in those doe brown eyes. “Cleaned up - indeed…” Brennia whistles when formal brown boots click on the marble of the floor and he smirked at Brennia humoring him. A true ‘80’s nerdy girl turns into hot girl entrance’. It is a bittersweet thing being able to help out her idol, but their fun was coming to an end.
E.L. watches the proceedings between the two avians unfold, all the while sipping daintily at her wine. She's on the outside quite calm but on the inside roiling with plot ideas for her next oeuvre. This has been a very productive visit. Brennia then returns and after explaining the cause of the dust up, announces that Zachael is to go back to Cenril with E.L. The author of course blinks at this development, and then blushes scarlet. She does not really know how to explain this to Hudson or her daughter in law. "Oh," she says, simply. "Well alright, that's very kind of you both." That had happened rather fast, is the best she can do. She's grateful for the distraction in the form of Brennia spinning more of her tales. Which are apparently quite detailed. Well, there's nothing E.L. relishes more than a love scene, and they're just getting to the good part when Brennia interrupts herself to announce Zachael's arrival once more. The author looks at the man, is rendered speechless until Brennia speaks again. "Well, I hope he doesn't find Cenril very boring after living here," says E.L., of course trying to say something reasonable. She drains her wine glass. "I suppose that's my cue," she sighs at Brennia, reaching to squeeze the woman's hand. "You are such a darling, I had such a wonderful time. I can't even begin to thank you."
Brennia, of course, shakes the woman's hand, but boldly pulls her in for a tight hug against her own pliable frame, “No, no Madame Landon, thank you. Your creations guided me through a very deep depression. Us Avians may be full of hubris, but we are passionate and deep feeling creatures. Your ability to pull me out of my rut puts me forever in your debt for I am eternally grateful for you.” Her words were genuine and the smile on Brennia's face proved that much before those liberty blue eyes look up at Zachael so they can say their brief goodbye. “Let me show you guys out and show you how some things function in the traveling carriage.” She leads the way out to the courtyard where a stable had been installed so the large Pegasi could be taken care of and shows E.L. the marvel of the carriage.
Traveling Coach
This simple looking mahogany carriage looks normal from the outside behind the group of six Pegasus and just by a glance one might assume it was a carriage for Avian dignitaries or something. As a student or professor (since those are the only ones frequenting the carriage) you would enter the coach via a turn of a gold and platinum handle which gives of a sort of magical hum at the request. Up the steps and through the threshold you would find that this isn’t some average carriage at all as it seems you just stepped into a living caboose (like a train). The walls are lined with panels of mahogany wood and windows are draped heavily in dark velvet curtains in the front of this area, but adequate light is given off by firefly sconces. Plenty of couches and armchairs follow a minibar which is next to a large covered bird cage. Further down the long caboose there are six double-berth compartments containing a total of twelve soft feather-beds, heavy light blocking curtains for privacy, footlocker storage and their own touch activated firefly lights. Simply luxurious and efficient to which we would associate to any popular musician’s tour bus.
E.L | Brennia's praise warms her, and after returning the hug E.L. smiles with genuine feeling. "You're too sweet, really," she insists, before allowing herself to be led to the coach. It's very luxurious! She immediately wonders why Hudson and Alvina don't have one, they have flying mounts after all. She'll put the bug in Alvina's ear about it. Those are the thoughts she has before stepping inside. Inside, she walks around wide-eyed, glancing back at Brennia and Zachael as if to silently ask, Is This Real, What. She walks the length, counting the individual compartments, before coming back to the entrance to say her final goodbye to Brennia. "Thank you again," she reaches to hug the woman before smiling briefly but shyly at Zachael. Her gaze returns to Brennia after that. "I'll make sure he writes you," she assures her, "I suppose your driver knows where to go?"