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Post by Aurianne nó Hughes on Jan 27, 2011 9:01:23 GMT -5
People were everywhere, and for a moment I could lose myself away from the woes of the nation and think on nothing else but watching them.. or at least, I could if I didn't look at their faces. One glimpse of a sorrowful man or a weeping woman and everything came rushing back, every last bit, til I was looking out at the tops of her paintings once again, all I could see.
When someone walked close to me, I didn't think anything of it... until that person spoke, and all the butterflies in my stomach swirled instantly, even before I looked up at him. "Yves," I responded, a smile coming to my mouth before I could taper it. Ducking my head, I tried to compose myself more; it was a horrible war, the sadness surrounding and the joy I felt at being near him again.
"I'm well enough," I said softly, my eyes rising to look up at him, trying not to note how handsome he was, but to stay focused on what was important today. "It's a horrible thing... even if it were an accident somehow, it's still awful. I hear they haven't caught anyone yet either," I added in a whisper, my eyes widened partially. I wasn't overly worried about myself; I was not powerful enough for that either in title or social status, but it was still worrisome for the country.
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Post by Calista nó Valerian on Jan 27, 2011 12:59:04 GMT -5
I smiled at his response. Gareth was so thoughtful, so generous, and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't just a bit protective of him at times. My hand squeezed his softly. "You're right.. She's at peace now. It's just a shame the rest of us didn't get to meet her while she was still here. Do you think they can hear us, those in the Terre d'Ange of beyond?"
Not that I had anyone to talk to; my family had abandoned me when I was a child, taking me here in a cart and never a word since. I'd long since come to terms with it, but my question was constructed for the future, I supposed... one never knew what was going to happen.
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Post by Gareth nó Valerian on Jan 27, 2011 22:08:28 GMT -5
My own sorrow was a nearly silent thing, and easy to lose amongst the other things I held within myself, but hers was a much more poignant thing and I was able to better understand the gravity of the situation from her reaction. "I do think that they can hear us, in one way or another- or at least see what we really mean in our hearts," I told her, softly squeezing her hand in return. There were some who said that I had been born into a little bit of death, having my twin stillborn while I survived, and that it gave me the odd soul that I had, since it was born partially incomplete. Sometimes I wondered if they were right. "But even if they can't, that doesn't mean praying for them is useless. If it brings you comfort then it's what you should do."
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Post by Bayard Roux nó Eglantine on Jan 27, 2011 22:43:38 GMT -5
"I can understand you there- but it'll level out," I replied in a quiet but sedate tone, looking around for a moment at the people thronged around. The mood here was both sad and tense, and it was easy to tell that even with the memorial not many people knew what to expect for the future. That always made situations a bit more uncomfortable and when I was uncomfortable I tended to get edgy. Bad habit from childhood I suppose.
With another subtle look around I pulled out a small silver flask and palmed it, then nudged Michaela's side and gave her a slightly impish grin before pressing it into her hand. A sip or two wouldn't hurt her and it might well steady her nerves. Most of the people here would probably go home and have a drink anyway- so this was just starting early.
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Post by Michaela nó Eglantine on Jan 27, 2011 22:53:57 GMT -5
I blinked as he pressed a cool metal object into my hand and nudged me. Looking down, I rolled my eyes and shot him an incredulous look. At his grin, I grinned back and sneakily took a sip, my eyes widened. Gods, what was in there? I held back the cough, staying silent, and slipped the flask back to him, shaking my head and softly clearing my throat.
"That," I whispered almost inaudibly to him, "Was absolutely disgusting."
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Post by Yvaine L'Envers-Shahrizai on Jan 28, 2011 14:05:57 GMT -5
I didn’t imagine that I had ever looked radiant, but it was nice of her to say so nonetheless. I smiled and shook my head slightly. “You look beautiful, under all that lace.” I wanted to ask her why she was covering herself up like she was, but perhaps it was not something she wished to speak of. I never knew what was all right to bring up with her, as things were so different between us. Ever since the day mother had left me with Uncle Henri and he had … my mind shied away from remembering that day, but ever since, I had been closed off to the rest of my family. He had promised that my obedience would protect them, and that if I told them, his guard would murder them. Now that I was older, I suspected that threat had been idle, but at fourteen, it had terrified me into silence.
It didn’t really matter anymore, anyway, what was done was done. Even if it had cost us our relationship, at least my sister had never had to endure what I had, never had Henri’s hands all over, using her … again, I had to force my scattered thoughts away from those memories.
“We should have lunch later?” I said, or rather, asked, because we had spent next to no time together since being in the City, and I really did want to know how she had fared, these last five years since I had run off and left Akkad.
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Post by Calista nó Valerian on Jan 28, 2011 21:16:39 GMT -5
I listened to him, nodding, glancing from the paintings and to him by turns. It made sense, what he said, and I had to admit I really liked the idea of being able to hear what my loved ones were saying when I passed, at having that connection to them. I sighed softly, unsure if this line of conversation was making me feel better or worse, but either way I didn't regret it.
Pressing my cheek against Gareths upper arm, I stared up at Sabrinas portrait, sighing softly to myself. "I hope she hears everyone today," I said softly, my free hand crossing over my body to hold onto the arm that I held, the same one that held my other hand. "But most especially I hope she speaks to someone to turn back Prince Christien should he rise to meet her." My voice was soft, reflective; I had no idea if that could happen either, but I hoped so, so very much.
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Post by Bayard Roux nó Eglantine on Jan 28, 2011 21:24:58 GMT -5
Poor little pigeon wasn't used to strong drink, as it was only brandy, but her reaction was strong enough for me to take back the flask and swig from it quickly before anyone else noticed. "It's not the best, but it works, like medicine," I told her in a whisper as I slipped the lid back on with an almost invisible movement and put the flask back into my pocket. Even if she didn't want any more that just meant there was more for me- and that I'd have to remember that this one was weaker at drinking. "Where should we go look around, sweets?"
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Post by Gareth nó Valerian on Jan 28, 2011 21:37:43 GMT -5
"We can only hope that those who make such decisions will listen to her," I replied quietly, reaching over to lightly pat Calista's hand where it rested on my arm. Her closeness was a comfortable one, that of a friend who understood something of the pain I felt even if she didn't know the reason for it, and I trusted her. "But I think she'd try. What else would a sister do for her brother but try to save him in some way?"
Smiling a bit more widely I cocked my head to the side and then looked down at my fellow Valerian adept. "I'm sure if she didn't have the idea yet she heard it from you now and she'll do just that. Don't worry."
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Post by Talenon Shahrizai on Jan 28, 2011 21:54:49 GMT -5
I hadn’t decided if I would go to the Queen’s memorial service until the morning of. It was a morning that would not have made one think of spring, and the weather was apropros of the situation. Eventually I decided to go, and to that end, I asked Rena if she would like to attend also. She did, and so here we were, barefoot in Elua’s Temple.
I had never been, Kushiel’s Temple was the place I frequented if I felt “religious” and since returning, I had been feeling the itch between my shoulder blades and the desire for penance … but actually, penance at Rena’s hand was what I truly craved, for wasn’t it she whom I had wronged? I pushed those thoughts out of my mind, they were for another time.
I didn’t mean to, but I brushed up against a young woman, pushing he slightly into the man she was with; a cousin of ours by the look of him. “My apologies,” I said softly, conscious of where we were.
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Post by Maxime nó Valerian on Jan 28, 2011 22:44:58 GMT -5
I left late for the memorial, having been recovering from a rather … vigorous … assignation the evening before. My back was so striped with welts that I’d had to have a fosterling practically slather me in a soothing cream that we had gotten from Balm House. I wore the lightest shirt possible, despite that I was cold, because anything more hurt too much.
Elua’s Temple was crowded, and I spied some of my fellow housemates amidst the throng, though I had few friends among them, so I did not bother to greet anyone. My offering was not flowers, but a tiny gold lily, a flower of sorts, I supposed, and it was that I laid amidst the beautiful gifts already there for our late and beloved Queen.
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Post by Sirena Shahrizai on Jan 28, 2011 23:23:39 GMT -5
When Tal had asked about going to the Temple to see off our poor, poor, dead Queen I'd been willing- and really, rather hoping he asked. It was true that I was Shahrizai and my blood sang for Kushiel- but hadn't he served Elua in the end? So to should the Shahrizai serve the crown, for that was the way of the blood and our natures. When among others we were their punishers, teachers, friends and sometimes critics, but for Elua we were followers too. It may have been a different song in my mind, but this place still called one.
Barefoot and dressed in grey with my accents of reddened gold I looked around, my hand lightly around Tal's arm and my eyes somewhat dazed with all of the things that flooded through me. Our poor Queen, with her sad eyes and her song so faintly reaching for the land beyond. At least she wasn't destined for Hell or repentance- she hadn't lived long enough or done enough to warrant it. Humming softly under my breath I could feel a song trying to break through, but for now I repressed it. Other things, other people, this was not the time. If I wanted to sing I would do it later, when there were greater ears to hear.
Tal's voice, though quiet, cut through the ones in my head and I glanced over where he did, a smile coming to my face. I'd always related to my cousins a bit more easily than he did, since so many of them scorned him for his half-blood, but I tended to have a way with them. "Which one of my cousins is it?" I asked in a quiet but sweet tone.
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Post by Michaela nó Eglantine on Jan 29, 2011 3:35:45 GMT -5
Looking at Bayard, I shrugged. "I've only been to one memorial and funeral service, and that was my parents' in Serenissima," I whispered softly into his ear. "I have no idea what we're supposed to do other than stand in somber silence and be sorrowful." Not that that was really difficult; the sorrow hung over the city like a thick cloth, gradually suffocating and blocking light.
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Post by Annette nó Fronsac on Jan 29, 2011 16:03:42 GMT -5
I rose early the day of Queen Sabrina's memorial. As I dressed myself and Olivier in black, I could not help but think back to the death of my own dear Gregoire, and wonder if this death was somehow connected. Prince Delaunay must have known that others were in danger, so why was our queen now dead? After a bit of breakfast, I walked with my son in arms to Elua's temple. I knew my bodyguard was close behind, if anyone tried to harm us he would be there.
I entered the temple shortly after a blonde woman with a babe of her own. Olivier, never having seen another baby before save himself let out an excited giggle and reached out to the other infant, a girl, judging from her attire. "I'm sorry," I whispered to the young mother. "He doesn't know what a memorial service is yet."
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Post by Calista nó Valerian on Jan 30, 2011 14:52:36 GMT -5
Gareths calm presence and reassuring words comforted me, and I was truly glad I came here with him today; my only regret was that I hadn't thought to invite Manon until it was too late. I'd have to make it up with her I decided, but there was naught I could do now.
"You're a sweet boy," I whispered, giving him a little curve of my lips; he was sweet, but not so much a boy. I kissed his upper arm before looking forward again, letting myself become lost in the emotional movement of those around me, something I hoped I'd never have to experience again.
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Post by Zayn L'Envers-Shahrizai on Jan 30, 2011 15:40:06 GMT -5
She seemed.. hesitant, unsure almost, and it confused me... but then, most everything with Yvaine of late confused me, and had for years now. I didn't know her any longer.. the sister I ran and laughed and played with was gone, and in her place was a woman that was reserved and withdrawn. Fine enough; I could play at that game too, but I didn't want to.
When she mentioned lunch, I smiled softly, toying with a small purse that hung at my wrist. "That sounds lovely to me, though it'd have to be at one of our places. Which reminds me.. where abouts are you staying at now?"
Strange to think; of all the things I did and did not know about my sister, where she was living was one of them. Mayhap we were both mysteries to the other, but mysteries could be solved.
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Post by Grace Ouilet on Jan 30, 2011 15:50:02 GMT -5
I hated to admit it, but I was forced to stick close to Jeans side as he waded through the crowd, not having any wish at being separated with no money or clue how to get back to the townhome he owned. I'd lived in the City once before, a lifetime ago it seemed.. Miryelle was born here as well, and scorned by the family she was never able to meet after my husband had passed away.
Lost in memories, I didn't notice another woman had approached with a babe with her til he giggled and she apologized, Miryelle shifting in my arms. "Of course," I smiled softly to her, ignoring Jean but ever aware of his presence. "Nor my daughter either, for that matter... and Elua send, it'll be many many years before they have to attend another."
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Post by Bayard Roux nó Eglantine on Jan 30, 2011 17:10:05 GMT -5
"The same thing applies here," I told her in a quiet tone. "We sit here and think on things, look at the pictures, feel sad for a bit and then we can move on. That's the idea anyway." I'd never really been to a memorial either- in fact I tried to avoid reminders of death as much as possible. It seemed unlucky to dwell on it, as though it was some ghost you'd drag back with you. "Just try not to let it sink in too much, sweets. That'll only make it worse." My expression was one of strained sadness, mostly because it was still a hard concept for me to wrap my head around. People died, I knew that. But Queens and Kings weren't supposed to. They ruled until you were old enough to watch their children come to power and complain about the 'good old days'.
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Post by Sophine Shahrizai de Amodour on Jan 30, 2011 18:14:17 GMT -5
"Oh, it's quite all right," I said, stepping aside to make some room for the man who had bumped into me. Erie looked him over, and the woman she was with, who was quite obviously some relation to him and then curtly gave our names.
"I am Erie Shahrizai de Amodour, and this is my wife, Sophine."
I sighed inwardly at his taciturn nature, worried that it might alienate people, and one thing I loved was meeting new people. Erie and I differed wildly in that regard, but I suppose that it couldn't be helped. I still thrilled when he called me his wife, and when I realized how wildly I was smiling, at a memorial of all places, I forced myself to tone it down.
"It's terrible what happened to the Queen, isn't it?" I said, keeping my voice low and sighing softly. It was sad, yes, but it wasn't going to keep me from going after my brothers. They weren't letting people out of the City, however, at least not without a lot of hassle, and I wasn't sure how I was going to manage getting to Tiberium with the way things were going.
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Post by Lillianne du Verais on Jan 30, 2011 19:45:24 GMT -5
I'd been in the City but a couple of days when the Queen was murdered, and I froze, wondering suddenly if it was a good time for me to have come. I'd never met her nor seen her, but I came dutifully regardless, paying homage and respects to the woman who had led us.
Pausing to lay a flower among so many others, I made my way in, my hands folded before me and head bowed slightly. A wide brimmed ebony hat sat atop my head, matching my attire, and at once I began to regret donning it; there were so many people that I felt it being bumped constantly, the pins already beginning to knock loose.
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Post by Yves Chevalier on Jan 30, 2011 20:57:58 GMT -5
"It is horrible," I agreed, shaking my head. If I had maintained my place in high society, perhaps I would be more nervous about such things, but as a relative pauper, I felt insulated from the fear that pervaded the nobility.
"But I'm sure the authorities are doing whatever is necessary to make sure that the City is safe." I was sure of no such thing, but I did not want her to worry. "Is Damien home with you?" I asked her, not out of any jealousy or malice, but rather because I did not like to think that she was staying alone with all of the unease in the City. Things were so tense, I did not doubt a cinder could have this City in flames in no time.
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Post by Aurianne nó Hughes on Jan 30, 2011 22:20:53 GMT -5
It was shameful and sinful how much I enjoyed being here with Yves.. how I enjoyed being anywhere with him. I wanted to feel his arms wrap around me, I wanted him to set his head atop my shoulder, wanted to feel safe and protected... but I couldn't. There was always a distance between us, a carefully constructed wall that I thought both of us wanted down but had no idea how to remove. When he asked about Damien, I shook my head, my shoulders lifting and falling in a light shrug.
"No, he's gone still on business. I'm not sure when he'll return in truth... Mayhap tomorrow, mayhap not for another month. The postal service isn't very reliable of late it seems." Or he hadn't been writing any letters; I wasn't sure which is was. "How are your girls doing?"
Yves as a father.. it was almost strange to think about, but at the same time I liked it. It fit him, really, and in truth it only served to endear me more. Oh Elua, but I was well and truly caught in him.
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Post by Gareth nó Valerian on Jan 31, 2011 13:15:28 GMT -5
There were times that it seemed that Calista was the only friend I could count on any longer; the rest had distanced themselves from me once I'd stopped being the person they could count on as a doormat. She'd never had that kind of inclination though, and was a soft heart and a good listener who showed affection easily, a trait that I appreciated a good deal.
"And you're a sweet girl," I told her with a slightly wider smile, leaning down to kiss the top of her head quickly before taking another look around. "Is there something in particular you wanted to do while we're here, or something you wanted to see? It's probably going to get pretty busy soon." Not that I minded being here, but I knew that my friend was the shyer sort and didn't generally like big crowds most of the time.
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Post by Annette nó Fronsac on Feb 1, 2011 22:04:07 GMT -5
"Indeed," I said, sighing softly. I'd promised Prince Delaunay I'd never talk about what happened to Gregoire, so instead I said, "I lost my consort quite suddenly last year, before my son was born. But to lose someone so young is just unbearable."
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Post by Leon Charles d'Essoms on Feb 5, 2011 21:39:30 GMT -5
We did not arrive too early to the memorial, primarily because I felt a bit awkward in going. I'd not known the Queen at all; in fact, for most, if not all, of her reign, I'd been away in Tiberium. In the end, however, I was the patriarch of my family, as absurd as that might sound if it were said aloud. And as patriarch, it was my duty to give my condolences on our behalf.
So it was decided that we would go. 'We' meaning Fionnula and I. Since the day she'd come to my home to hear me play the harp, she'd spent every night with me, and it was becoming harder and harder to imagine life without her. When I decided I would be going to the memorial, there was never a question of whether she would accompany me or not.
I was dressed in black that day, with only hints of the red and green of house Essoms. As we arrived, I could feel the weight of the sorrow surrounding us, the people already there grieving the passing of our monarch. "I don't understand how something like this could happen," I whispered softly to Fion as we paused at the entrance to remove our shoes, "How could someone have poisoned her and not been caught in the act?" It was a rhetorical question, of course; I didn't expect her to have an answer.
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Post by Fionnula mab Bevin on Feb 5, 2011 21:59:03 GMT -5
I had come with Leon to the memorial for his Queen, Sabrina. I'd heard the awful story and was honored to be able to pay my respects. It didn't matter that I was not from here, she was still worthy of being honored. And so we went.
I was dressed in a dark gray, as I had no black dresses, and Leon had said it would be permissible. I had not gone back to Joie's since the first night at Leon's home, and so I had only a few things there. Sooner or later, I thought absently, we would have to come to a decision about that.
I shook my head, both to clear it and in silent disapproval of the situation. "I don't understand it either, love; I couldn't comprehend doing something like this to another person, all for what? Political gain?" I whispered back incredulously. "I'm sure the guard around the other royalty has been intensified, though."
I stood next to him and slipped my hand into his. I didn't know how much, if any, affection was permissible to show at a funeral, but I thought that holding his hand would be all right. I couldn't see that much, being a bit shorter, but I still said a silent prayer in Cruithne, praying for her soul to be at peace and whoever had committed this heinous crime to be caught.
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Post by Leon Charles d'Essoms on Feb 5, 2011 22:37:00 GMT -5
I didn't think anyone was going to look askance at us for her holding my hand, either, so I gave her hand a gentle squeeze as we moved further into the temple. Slowly, we approached the memorial, where flowers and other gifts had been laid. Sighing softly, I began a prayer of my own, to Elua and the Companions, asking for swift passage for her majesty into the Terre d'Ange beyond, my head bowed.
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Post by Fionnula mab Bevin on Feb 5, 2011 22:48:41 GMT -5
I glanced up at him and his head was bowed. I figured he was offering up a prayer as I had just done so I stayed silent a moment longer. When I saw his head lift once more, I whispered, "So what will the City do for the rest of the day? I've never been to a d'Angeline memorial, only an Eiran one," I explained softly, my fingers silently twining around his.
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Post by Leon Charles d'Essoms on Feb 5, 2011 23:16:05 GMT -5
"I would imagine they will spend a quiet day either indoors or out, in whatever way they see fit, as long as it does not involve businesses that are closed," I responded to her, letting out a deep breath as I glanced about. It was not as if I knew many people at that point, but if there were any there I did know, it would have been impolite to not say anything to them, after all. "Do you suppose your cousin is about?" I asked her softly, my sapphire gaze taking in our surroundings.
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Post by Fionnula mab Bevin on Feb 5, 2011 23:26:37 GMT -5
I shrugged, unsure. "If she is, I probably will not seek her out. I'm sure she will be mourning as well, and I would not want to interrupt that." I gazed about as I murmured, wondering if I would see her, but I did not catch any glimpses of her or sir Quinn. There were quite a few people about, though, so if they were present they could have been anywhere.
Where was the poisoner now? I wondered suddenly. What were they doing? Were they here, secretly satisfied that their job was finished? It disgusted me to think that someone could be so coldheartedly ruthless.
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