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Post by AzuraGallu on Jul 23, 2010 23:33:40 GMT -8
Azura had spoken more so than usual on this trip, more so about pointless things than anything of real import. He'd noticed Anshel's withdrawn mood, and while he wanted to speak up, at the time it didn't seem like a wise idea. In the fresh moments of a memory, it was better to let someone calm themselves before attempting to intervene. The Hunter was someone who was sensitive despite the demonic heart and blasé attitude he often showed to others around him, though Azura suspected he only knew that much because he was, in fact, trusted.
Upon hearing his companions words over the surface of his drink, Azura couldn't help a smile. "You'll need something a lot stronger than that to deal with Melora this time, I believe. She doesn't seem like she'll go down without a massive fight."
The cynicism with which the Judge spoke his words bothered the vampire in a way he couldn't explain, and so finally after many hours of deliberation, and his own alcoholic medication in hand, he asked his question. "Why do you seem so sad?" The words were spoken with concern and a sense of trepidation he didn't think he'd ever uttered to anyone save his own family. He didn't want to anger Anshel, but his curiosity had gotten the better of him, though he was silently proud of himself it'd taken this long.
He traced the pad of his free fore-finger along the glass's edge, wiping clean the condensation in a small intricate design that, after a few minutes, became legible as some form of Arabic handwriting.
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Post by Christopher Saunders on Jul 23, 2010 23:45:17 GMT -8
“What!?” Christopher’s eyes flashed, and the raw edge to his voice seemed to vibrate through the entire building. The strange, white-haired woman nodded.
“Unfortunately so, sir. What course of action do you wish to take?” She scooted up a pair of owlish glasses on her face, but somehow still having them remain attractive.
Christopher dropped back into a large chair, propping his chin up. This was bad, very, very bad. “Lock down the Citadel for now, send out a summons to all Moroi that extra housing and protection will be extended if they come immediately.” His movements were mechanical, and he had to grind his teeth painfully to keep calm.
This order had gone out by phone, email, and word of mouth, and already some nearby Moroi were at the air port via private jets or smaller aircraft, hurriedly arranging cabs and modes of transport. Some had just driven in, seeking a gathering place to be safely taken to the Citadel.
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Post by Doctor on Jul 24, 2010 0:04:57 GMT -8
Anshel stilled at the inquiry before tipping his head back and emptying the pathetic amount of liquor into his throat. A gulp and he set the empty plastic down, looking down with his chin tucked to his chest and feeling warmth flood his ears and cheeks.
Azura, thank Satan, sounded curious instead of fishing. It was only concern and not suspicion, Anshel told himself. He could maybe get by with a smile and dismissive reassurance.
He took a deep breath before giving Azura a toothy smile that didn't reach his eyes despite knowing that would only make the deceit obvious, but he'd already chosen this course of action so he was going to go for it no matter how sloppily it came out.
"Just some sad memories from a long time ago, nothing to worry over," he tried to establish eye-contact, but settled for talking to Azura's nose. "Serena's story was just an upsetting one." He started to tap the plastic still in his hand against the pull-out table, waiting to see if Azura's concern was pacified.
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Post by AzuraGallu on Jul 24, 2010 0:11:09 GMT -8
Azura's eyebrows knit together in an expression of thoughtful concern laced with a small bit of anger. The anger wasn't directed at Anshel of course, but a sneaking suspicion that crept up on him upon hearing the way in which the other man spoke.
Keeping his voice calm, he spoke again, feeling like he was maybe going too far with this one. "Something like that happened to you, didn't it?"
It was innocent if only in the way it was worded, and Azura suddenly felt immensely guilty for even bringing it up.
"On second thought, never mind. I'm sorry."
He looked away, sinking into his chair as he raised his eyes to the dull glow of the LED lit symbols above him.
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Post by Doctor on Jul 24, 2010 0:35:57 GMT -8
Anshel's hand stilled and the cup was quiet.
But Azura changed the subject. Not nosy and entitled, but sensitive and tactful. The king kept pleasantly surprising him. He dropped the facade and swallowed his heart back into place. Anshel didn't provide any sort of answer, but maybe his silence was enough of one and he quickly pushed the thought away and turned on the tiny screen Business Class provided.
A few silent minutes and he was upset for completely different reasons. Here they were in the fucking sky - shit like that needed to be marveled at! He remembered reading about the Wright brothers' insane ambitions and laughing. They were in the sky drinking scotch in cushioned seats and life was too fucking amazing for him to be gloomy about things that he'd gotten over centuries ago. He was a force of positive nature, damn it. Just like Oprah. Decisive fingers pressed into the touchscreen in front of him, bringing up competitive trivia.
Elbow checking Azura, he said without waver or uncertainty, "It's cool. 'Was a very long time ago so don't feel the need to tip-toe around anything and be weird."
Anshel reached over him and turned on Azura's screen and bringing up the same game.
"I bet you I'll win." He knew Azura loved challenges.
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Post by AzuraGallu on Jul 24, 2010 0:44:24 GMT -8
Azura snorted, small smile returning to his face. "You're old! That's hardly fair!" He crossed his arms over his chest, sinking further into his seat even though a broad smile made his eyes close at the Judge's prodding, silent chuckle making him shake. He nearly had to bite his tongue to keep from laughing. It just so happened Anshel had hit a ticklish spot, and Azura was trying to covertly dodge the elbow that still grazed against him.
When he'd finally succeeded in worming his way to the other side of the chair, he let out a relieved breath from between his lips, sobering a little. "You know, it's alright to be sad sometimes. Just not all the time, otherwise you'll end up bat-shit crazy like Mel. Look at what all that doom and gloom did to her?"
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Post by Doctor on Jul 24, 2010 1:07:47 GMT -8
"I know, right?"
Talking was coming easily to Anshel again, because while good sex was probably number one on his list of most cathartic activities, second place would have to go to bitching about that girl.
"I mean, yeah, avenging your family, that's awesome. Good for you. I can take that. I can take the lying and the deceit and the never listening to me and ruining all of my plans and disregarding all my precautions. I wouldn't really mind all that if she wasn't such a fucking buzz-kill!"
He stopped venting long enough to realize his moodiness had completely disappeared. Did Azura know him that well? Even if not, that didn't lessen how perfect he was being right now. Anshel grinned and turned to catch the vampire's eyes. Holding them firmly, he exclaimed with conviction, "You're fucking amazing, you know that?"
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Post by AzuraGallu on Jul 24, 2010 1:18:28 GMT -8
The smile on Azura's face grew steadily wider as he listened to the litany of grievances Anshel had over Melora. He'd even shared some of them, but that was hardly the point at the moment. The Judge's sour mood had vanished with just a little prodding in the right direction. Being pissed at something always made sorrow take a flying leap out a twenty story building.
Sitting correctly in his seat again, the vampire looked directly back at Anshel, taking the compliment to heart. In a show of cheekiness he'd never have gotten away with regarding anyone else, he leaned over placing his elbow on the arm rest, chin resting in the palm of his upturned hand as he batted his eyelashes at his friend.
"Tell me more about me," he said in a high-pitched voice, the action causing him to giggle. He really did like spending time with Anshel, and it was obvious to himself why that was so, though he'd never tell the man in a million years that it was because he reminded him of his brother. In a very...twisted way among most people, that sort of love wasn't allowed, as was made explicitly clear to him on several painful occasions.
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Post by Christopher Saunders on Jul 24, 2010 23:14:42 GMT -8
Christopher and the Moroi which had flown in were in black suits and dresses: mourning the losses from the explosion, and hoping for the others.Though the Lord had a few extra embellishments, including several silver pins, the gold ring that had been passed on his Father’s side, and an addition that was purely for close combat defense against another vampire: the rapier.
This outside threat had gone to far. The halls were deathly quiet, the Guards positioned strategically along the fringes of the building. In the two days time since Azura and Anshel had left, the Citadel had been nearly completely remodeled. No longer did it appear a peaceful, political gathering place. The windows were shut, barred on the outside, the doors leading to the outer world the same. No chances were going to be taken.
“M’ Lord, what do you wish to do?” An Elder Moroi questioned.
“Yes, are we going to authorize ourselves to be prey because somebody-”
Serena shot that woman a death glare from her place near the Boy Lord.
“I’ve made plans, I will be leaving temporarily, leading it away.” He said.
“Where?” And so the uproar began.
“One of my parent’s Properties. Secure, hidden away.”
A women puckered her lips with a sour expression.
“Calm the hell down, can’t you all see he’s helping you!?” Serena exclaimed.
The outbursters seemed to quiet, regretting their caterwauls.
And so it was set: Wales, in a castle hidden out in the country side which Chris would often consider his own personal escape, was going to become the hiding place. No servants or extra staff even knew of it, only Serena, himself, a select pool of his realities, and his ten personal Guard. And if that wouldn’t work, the time to start jumping from place to place would be upon them.
“Your abandoning us!” One man exclaimed out of the calm, quiet.
Chris locked his jaw, eyes flashing. “No, not at all. They want me.”
“Where’s your evidence!” The man retorted, voice smoldering with anger.
“The explosion, if they want me, isn’t it logical that I leave?”
The evidence was solid, indisputable.
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Post by Christopher Saunders on Jul 24, 2010 23:44:59 GMT -8
Much to her protest, Serena hadn’t accompanied the High Lord on his trip to hiding. She still remained back at the Citadel. A fiery red head with the Lord’s favour could do quite a number to keep the royals in check, ranging from the snooty ones who just seemed to down right enjoy complaining, to the ones that were genuinely worried.
A flight on a crummy, old plane, which was by a private human had been more or less worth it for Chris. The fact of comfort made it possible for him to hopefullly not be followed, but if one were to think carefully, it seemed right for him to be stealthy. And now, saddle sores were a pain in the ass. Quite literally actually. He’s acquired a good few hours of them too, he really did need to get back into riding. Steven had been right when he’d spoke of it being a useful skill.
Several at Court had failed to see the logic in him leaving, calling it absurd or ridiculous. But logically, there was less of a chance of his people getting destroyed if he was away from them. Nearer he was, the bigger the flare for the person(s) hunting him. The reasons for coming here were simple too: lack of population where he was going meant less witnesses to see him. Horse back in and out to not leave a nice series of tire impressions for trackers to follow. Or so Chris thought.
“Sir!” A Guard was pushing his mount hard, galloping toward the small band.
He whirled his mare back, facing the approaching.
“We’re being followed!”
Just the words he didn’t want to hear. And at the most inopportune time
So the group split: Chris and a pair of Guards on foot with their packs were to head back to the airport to place a call to Serena to notify her, and to somebody else Chris knew he could trust. Anshel.
The tip back passed in a blur at the vampiric speed. But somehow it also felt like an eternity. Worry was consuming Chris for the Guards that had volunteered to proceed to the castle to lead whoever was following off course. If anything were to happen…. A sense of dread was already forming a pit in his gut. His mind was conjuring up terribly gruesome images: the Guards slaughtered, blood spread on the floors and smeared on the walls, beheaded and impaled on the gates, or worse…
Chris exhaled, ignoring the baffled looks he was receiving from the sparse group of humans that mulled about at the airport. He looked haggard, sleep-deprived, and rougher then usual. The blonde actually hadn’t bothered with shaving was getting a steady bit of bristling of stubble along his jaw. He sent it then, before he could loose the nerve. Humans didn't need to hear a conversation. The text message to Anshel read: Complications have arisen, I’m being followed. I need to shelter out of sight of prying eyes.
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