Mephala's Maiden: Black Rose Clan Options

[jack cloudy]

Hmm, the slow approach. Ah well, there won't be that many people left who think she might actually be an assassin after she'd stuck around for a few days doing this stuff.

Just one thing though. What is she going to do with the admirers who aren't her desired victim?
(Normally a simple 'no thanks' should suffice, but this is Telvanni teritory, so anything goes.)

[Black Hand]

Well, to answer the question, if someone gets in her way, she kind of has to defend herself. But don't forget Dark Petals are religious, and what they do is how they worship, they weave thier own webs, for the webspinner.

The slow approach isn't 'slow' at all, it's THEIR approach. They are sirens, calling in men to thier ruin.

[Black Hand]

Errisa twirled the kreshweed flower between her fingers. She gently brought the petals to her nose, inhaling the intoxicating scent of Azura’s Coast. Her little protégé was doing so well!

“So he has sent you gifts, and enticed you back to his stronghold already. One thousand drakes for one night of music, I am certain.” Errisa said with a darkly humorous twist to her lips.

Sayuri sat on her Matrons couch her face a blank page. Inside, however she was a tortured soul. To be so close to the man who had taken her parents from her, and to smile to his face. To walk just so, to speak to him and laugh. It was a dance, as Errisa had taught her, and she was certainly leading.

She also realized the web that had been weaved, her target selected for her, years before. And while she had thoughts of escaping, of refusing to kill, of maintaining her innocence. They had selected the one person that she would never refuse to kill. She now knew him by the name of Brithos Andrethi.

She had embraced the skills that had been instilled in her over these many years. Because she hated him, because she wanted him to suffer. Not because Mephala was pleased by it, and not because the Black Rose wanted it. Because she did.

“I take it you have accepted the invitation?” Errisa said placing the flower back into the vase.

“I’m playing coy for the meantime, but said I would have an answer at the end of my set tonight.”

“Good. You will of course accept. He will of course listen to you sing, and then will want to engage you in conversation, a drink perhaps. Then. When he is feeling just a little drunk, and more than a little amorous, he will try words, then touch, then emotions, and then force to take you into his bed. Between touch, and emotions, is when you must accept his advances. See them through….and then…..” she said looking to Sayuri’s wrist, concealing her dagger.

Sayuri as Azalea Blackleaf finished her set that evening with a song that she had written herself. It was a slight transcendental piece that spoke of loneliness, loveliness, and loss. Brithos said he loved it, as he approached her, gently inquiring her about her his initiation.

Sayuri accepted of course, with a smile and a demure look downwards. Brithos arranged for the two to meet the next morning at the docks.

She wore the light blue robes of a Telvanni mage, with simple designs around the edges of the sleeves and flaps, fastened together by a matching belt tied in the khajiit monk style with the two extra long edges meeting the bottom flap of the robe. Across her back, her lute lay. Hidden in her sleeves her dagger lay.

She let the winds of Zafirbel Bay blow her dark hair about, as she awaited the loss of two things that held her back from becoming a dark petal.

Brithos walked across the tendrils of the mushroom that made the docks. He placed a hand on her shoulder, and extended one to the ship that awaited them. She smiled and began the walk forward.

[jack cloudy]

A boat?.....Well that's perfect! It's romantic, no one to interupt. You got candles? I know just how to create the perfect scene and...

Oh, who am I kidding? You just eliminated most of the potential witnesses and if this is one of those fancy boats that are steered by Magicka and don't require a crew, you just removed all the witnesses. Yup, everything's according to plan. MUHAHAHAHA...cough...

[Black Hand]

The journey was a short one, within the sun’s descent she and the wizard were within the stronghold cleverly hidden within the volcanic rock of Molag Amur, within sight of the coast. Telvanni rarely cared for anything outside their own strongholds. It was equally strange that this ambitious spellwright would even consider taking an outsider to his home.

The Telvanni ranking lords were not well known for carrying on their roles through family, rather they seemed to prefer simply recruiting powerful apprentices to carry on their work. But as telvanni lived for ages, perhaps the families of the past were simply forgotten, and the image of the solitary wizard obsessed with power, was all that remained. Though there were rumors, and whispers, that these wizards, usually to self-absorbed to look up from whatever tome they were reading, would occasionally find a person interesting enough to take a respite and focus their energies for a short time on them.

If these rumors were true, then it was certainly the case for Brithos’ interest in the girl he called Azalea. As he welcomed her into the Velothi style home, telling the Breton Spellsword retainer to show her to her room, and set her up with all the accommodations she required.

The night moved slowly into Sayuri’s set, with the room that Brithos usually used for teaching his retainers in a few levels of power below his, set up for Azalea. Raised upon the dais, sitting in a comfortable chair, obviously built in a hlaalu district, Brithos and his half a dozen retainers sat and listened for two hours as she played in her unique style, and playing Brithos affections with coy glances.

The set ended with the retainers applauding enthusiastically, rising as he did. He then ordered a feast to be drawn up, and bade Azalea to follow him to a trophy room of sorts. As they waited for the food to be served he went over a multitude of objects from enchanted katanas, to rare scrolls, to unique tomes.

Then he lifted a book that Sayuri immediately recognized, its aged red leather stifling a gasp from her. Brithos looked over at her and smiled. “Yes, it is beautiful, is it not? This is a one of a kind, a book of Akaviri poetry, that I alone know the translation too. Its verses are strange, but well worth the time spent on it. I confess it means much to me. So much so, that I even hunted down and killed two would-be thieves once. Telvanni justice, my dear. But you have nothing to fear from me.” He set the book down.

Dinner was announced as ready, and Brithos gestured that they leave the room. The entire meal Sayuri held back her dark thoughts of the knowledge that she had seen what her parents had died for, a bloody book! Pages and ink, wrapped in a dead cow’s skin!

As the evening wore on, the retainers retired one by one, until it was only Brithos and Azalea seated at the table, first came the conversation, then came the drinks. Then came the words. Then came his hands on hers. Then came his confessions of loneliness.

Sayuri leaned over and kissed him softly, her head moved back slightly, lips slightly parted. Brithos looked at her. The dark eyes, the dark hair, then enticing smells and sounds of a woman’s body. He leaned in and he kissed her back.

There was a small trail of clothes leading to Brithos’ bed, and in the dark torchlight two figures moved around under the sheets passionately like a snake captured in a sack desperate to escape.

Brithos fell onto his back while Azlaea straddled him, she looked down on him with a look of gloating triumph, that could have been mistaken for desire.

“Ask me what my sign is Brithos.” She said with a musky undertone. Brithos already in a gleeful mood played along.

“Azalea, what is your sign?”

“The Lover.”

“How very, very fitting.”

“According to the firmament, what can a lover do?”

“Excuse me?” Brithos asked getting lost from the game.

“What can a Lover do?”

“Freeze others with a kiss, they say…Azalea, what are you…” he stopped as she leaned in and kissed him softly.

“My name is Sayuri, daughter of Dombadil and Aranwen. The bosmer you killed for your poetry you rat-loving son of a (censored)” she said brandishing her dagger, and going to work on the paralyzed from of Brithos.

[Black Hand]

Errisa and Sayuri left Sadrith Mora on a small skiff into the fog soon to be burned away by the morning sun. Errisa wore a hooded robe a dark blue color, and looked down at Sayuri playing a quiet tune on her lute, wearing a dark brown monk’s frock. She gave a smile as she thought that her sister was her equal now. She was a priestess of Mephala.

“You’ve spoken nary a word since you’ve returned, dear sister. I know the first time is the hardest…”

“That is not why I am quiet, Errisa. I am quiet because I am scared how calm I am. How easy it truly was.”

“Then it was your innermost wish, your darkest desire. To kill the man, who killed your sires.”

“Yes.” She said looking plainly out to Zafirbel Bay. “Yes it was.”

“The Mother will be pleased. She chose you and your first target well. Secrets, Sex, and Murder. Mephala is strengthened by your offerings.”

Sayuri cocked her head to the side ever so slightly, so the side of her face was visible to Errisa. “The Mother? Do you mean the Chief Priestess? “

“The Chief Priestess becomes ‘The Mother’ when she swallows Mephala’s spirit. She becomes Mephala.”

Sayuri nodded slightly. She understood some of the basics of the metaphysical aspects of her order. Basically, myth itself was woven into the Aurbis, symbols could tap into myth, and mortals could symbolically become myth. Errisa once said: ‘..we walk like them, until we become like them…’

“So when do I get to hear all about it? You know this trip will last a few days..” Errisa said genuinely interested in her macabre story.

For the next few hours Sayuri surrendered all the details, the set, the dinner, the seduction. Then the moment of truth, how she had paralyzed him with her power. Made him to suffer, taking her time, opening the cavity in the chest…

Errisa listened to each word intently, rowing with an incredible stamina. She finally commented that Sayuri had in fact ‘walked like them’.

[Black Hand]

Errisa and Sayuri set in the port town of Suran, setting up into the tradehouse in town for the night. Though there were two beds, Errisa slept in the same bed as her sister that night, knowing she needed comfort. Despite her cruel tutelage those many years, Sayuri did not push her away. In many ways she felt closer to her now than ever, wondering if Errisa had to endure this life as well.

The morning light brought with it a sense of renewal, breakfast, and tea. Errisa and Sayuri looked and spoke to one another not as master and pupil now, but as equals, friends.

“The Mother has been eager to meet you these many years. And now is your final step. I’m almost proud. I will miss you.” Errisa said sipping her drink.

Sayuri nodded. “Who is she? I mean what is she like?”

“You’ll find out when you meet her. We are forbidden from speaking about her.”

“Right, secrets, assassins. I get it.”

Errisa shook her head slightly. “You misunderstand. I did not say that we were forbidden to speak OF her. Simply forbidden from trying to describe her, it’s the practice of acknowledging that the divine is beyond our mortal comprehension. When we attempt to attach labels to things, it limits them.”

“But we can speak of the Chief Priestess?”

“Of course, her name is Genevieve Girarde.”

“A Breton?” Sayuri interrupted.

“Yes. Does that surprise you, Bosmer?”

“I was expecting a Dunmer.”

“She is the first outland priestess; the other two members are Dunmer however. In fact the three of us are also the first outland members as well. Genevieve was first, then myself. She was even my instructor. Then of course you came along.”

“I would like to meet Genevieve.”

“Soon.” Errisa said looking over Sayuris shoulder...

[minque]

I'm stunned, Blackie! And I'm NOT saying this because I like you, this story is awesome, your descriptions are so vivid, I can see her, the little Sayuri, the picture you painted of her is so clear set inside my mind.

I've quoted some lines below that caught my attention!

“No. We are not prostitutes, for we seldom sleep with men for money. We take lives in the name of justice; we are priestesses of a darker shade. Outsiders may look upon us with fear and disdain, and yet, they cannot look away. For we are, what in their souls, they yearn for most. We are free, free of emotion, free of love, free of fear.”

Poetry this is....so beautiful!

“You mean I have to kill someone? Or sleep with someone?”

Humour....dark, great humour.....I can just see her saying this!

She had embraced the skills that had been instilled in her over these many years. Because she hated him, because she wanted him to suffer. Not because Mephala was pleased by it, and not because the Black Rose wanted it. Because she did.

Bang! Right in my chest!.....I almost "freeze" reading it....

Across her back, her lute lay. Hidden in her sleeves her dagger lay.

Sheer beauty!

There was a small trail of clothes leading to Brithos’ bed, and in the dark torchlight two figures moved around under the sheets passionately like a snake captured in a sack desperate to escape.

This is a description I really like.....yep, I can "see" it

For the next few hours Sayuri surrendered all the details, the set, the dinner, the seduction. Then the moment of truth, how she had paralyzed him with her power. Made him to suffer, taking her time, opening the cavity in the chest…

Brrr.....makes me shiver!

Hey Blackie....obviously you know a great deal about how women think and react! Sayuri is thrustworthy and feels real.....and believe me....I know what I'm talking about!

[Black Hand]

Sayuri followed Errisa’s gaze over her shoulder, and took notice of two vivacious Dunmer Maidens walking toward their table. The walk, the poise, the dress. These were the other two Dark Petals.

Errisa arose from her chair, smiling and arms outstretched, silently cooing out ‘sisters!’ The other two returned her embrace, chatting nonsensically about the years spent apart, until finally they looked down at the nervous Bosmer.

They introduced themselves as Anssi Tyravel, and Dralsie Andules. Anssi had short reddish hair, and Dralsie had long dark brown hair in two ponytails that came down either side of her neck. Both hugged Sayuri and welcomed them to the family.

Anssi, the more passionate of the two, was the first to probe Sayuri for information, her first kill, how it now felt to be a member. To which Sayuri replied plainly, provoking an ‘ahh’ response from Dralsie, who was a bit more intelligent and methodical in her demeanor.

Dralsie folded her hand around Sayuri’s, a warm and soft grasp. “Don’t you listen to her, little one; her first time was followed by a week of crying and flin. You’re doing just fine; I think you’re going to make a great Sister.”

Sayuri gave a polite smile and nod. Dralsie saw through this and began a little pep talk.

“Look, I know it seems macabre that we sit around and discuss what we do like we came from the market. However it is what we do. The Morag Tong is definitely a fraternity to our sorority, but don’t forget that those we take for Mephala, deserved what they had coming. We believe in an ancient form of justice, when those who have wronged another pay in equal terms. Gold is not equal to a life. Only another life is. And somewhere deep inside; you agree. That is why Andrethi lies dead. Telvanni justice indeed.” She spat out the last sentence, truly disgusted by his actions years ago.

Sayuri smiled again, this time genuinely, grateful that someone shared her viewpoint. “But ,what about Mephala’s pleasure in all of it. That’s what bothers me. She is a Daedra, she cares not about mortal justice, just her realm, and sphere being strengthened.”

“True.” Dralsie nodded, impressed. “The spider can be a fickle mistress. But we are all caught in her web, we are a part of the society that she helped build. Soon, when the higher truths begin to form in your mind, you may come to see things as we do more clearly. But you are already so advanced for your age.”

“I’ll thank you for the compliment.” Errisa said extending a finger at Dralsie. “I am after all, a great teacher.”

“Say, girls. Has she ever been to Desele’s?” Anssi said with a mischievous look in her eye that was pointed right at Sayuri. “I mean when was the last time we were all in Suran at the same time?”

“No. No. No. NO!” Errisa started.

“You remember what happened last time. Genevieve had to bail us out from the Magistrate.” Dralsie finished.

“How was I supposed to know you had to have a permit to dance in there? Besides I’m not talking about using the kitty sugar this time.”

“Stop!” Errisa said putting a hand in Anssi’s face. “We really don’t want to give Sayuri the wrong impression. We are not….party girls. We do serious things.”

“The ONE time we cut loose.” Anssi protested.

Errisa considered it. “When is Genevieve due?”

“Three days, minimum.” Dralsie nodded, liking the idea more with each nod of her head.

Errisa looked at Anssi. “No sugar this time?”

“Swear to the holy three, the sugar I will let be.” Said Anssi, making some religious sign with her hands.

Sayuri of course was somewhere between laughter and incredulousness.

“What is Desele’s?” she asked, which prompted laughter from the trio at the table.

“It’s a place where men are boys, and women can be women.” Dralsie said with a chortle.

[Black Hand]

The foursome entered into the House of Earthly Delights, giggling. The three senior members of the Black Rose took the lead to an empty table, amid the stares of the patrons at the unusual patronage. Sayuri however was left standing and staring, until her wrist was grabbed and she was sat down.

“Are they?..Can they?...They’re naked!” Sayuri exclaimed.

The three girls looked at her with mischievious grins, drinking in her reaction to the infamous Desele’s. On three dais’, danced an equal number of naked girls. Redguard, Breton, and Nord, the three shades of skin each glistened with a layer of sweat, moving and gyrating to the upbeat rhythms of the drunken Hlaalu Dunmer Band, wearing nothing but their smiles. Smiling even more with the addition with the familiar three, and the unfamiliar little Bosmer with the shocked expression on her face.

“Now, now little one, it wasn’t too long ago that you were in a same position as these girls, no?” Errisa said making fun of her former pupil.

“That was different, I didn’t show my body for the whole world to see!” she retorted.

“I see. You feel some moral outrage? Who are they hurting, sweetheart?” Dralsie said with a slightly challenging tone.

Sayuri looked around the bar. Topless waitresses serving frothing mugs of greef to the regulars, patrons with eyes locked onto the dancers. There was, contrary to popular belief, no riots breaking out, no massive rapes, and Akatosh had not stopped times flow, and torn Nirn asunder. It was just a bunch of men drinking, watching girls dance, and tossing drakes at the stage.

“No one. It’s just…” Sayuri started.

“It just goes against how you were raised, even House Hlaalu with their own set of dubious morals, are still composed of Dunmer, Anssi and I know. We’re from here. Just have some greef. And enjoy yourself.” Dralsie replied.

Sayuri did just that, and eventually fell into a relaxed state of mind. Feeling the beat of the guarskin drums, and notes of the fiddle and lute.

Sometime during the few hours they were there, Anssi leaned over to Sayuri, and put a folded up paper in her hand. “I swore that I wouldn’t do it. You didn’t.”

It was moon sugar all right. Rumored to be an open source at the House of Earthly Delights, patrons were generally allowed to do it by the local guard, provided they stayed on their best behavior, and inside the tavern. It was taboo. It was wrong on many levels. Sayuri decided to try it.

What happened next was a blur, she sifted it into her mug when the others were not looking, and drank it slowly, letting its powerful effects slowly reach into her mind, her body like a few tendrils of vapor that lit up dormant areas of her brain.

It was equal parts stimulant and sensory enhancer, she soon discovered. The music, while strong in her mind before, largely due to her background with her lute, was more intense then she had ever felt. The dancers, before, simply dancing fleshpots became shamanistic dancers, their motions blurred, and their shadows on the wall were as dark spirits intent on summoning their dark liege. Suddenly, her eyes were drawn to the flame of the torch stand opposite to the stage. Its dancing flame was a center of a universe, a Magnus to Nirn. The flame began to speak in a strange language, it wasn’t words, it was ideas, pure thought in a spirit form.

Wait a minute, she thought. Flame doesn’t speak, it’s just the sugar. The flame disagreed, though not with words. Get a grip, she thought. The flame said she did, though not with words. I’ m ignoring you now, she thought. Go ahead, everyone else does, the flame said, though not with words. Fine then, what do you have to say? She thought.

The flame began to talk of the beginning time. The Mythic Dawn. The convention of the divines, and the creation of nirn, the ehlnofey, the earthbones, Lorkhan and Akatosh, space and time as one. The mundex arena, creation of separates, so that the fragments may see their way to wholeness, achieve heaven by violence!

“Sayuri, you okay?” said Dralsie with a sip of her greef. “You’re staring at something, what? Is it that guy over there?” Dralsie said looking at some Imperial man sitting at a table, seeming to look at Sayuri staring at the flame.

Sayuri began to come too, whatever the sugar was, it had reached its zenith, and she was beginning to come back down to a drunken stupor. “Yeah, I’m fine. I just usually don’t drink this much. Can we go?” she said rubbing her face.

“We just got here! Anssi, take her upstairs, let her wash her face or something, get some fresh air, if you’d like.”


Sayuri stumbled out of her chair, and took the stairs to the lavatory upstairs. She looked at the wellwater in the basin, and was thankful that it was clean, as she splashed water on her face.

“Well, what are you girls doing here?” came the Imperial mans voice from nowhere.

Sayuri spun around in surprise. The leering imperial had a drunken look on his face, and wicked sneer that spoke volumes about what was going through his mind. “Helviane’s doing good branching out to the merfolk like you lovely ladies.”

“Oh no, were not…I mean, we’re just here for the drink,…”

“Now, now, don’t be shy; I saw how you was looking at me. Must be yer first time, relax, relax, look, see I got the gold. I know how this goes, I’ve negotiated before.” He said softly, the smell of brandy thick on his breath.

“I’m not a dancer, I’m not for sale. Get out of here.” Sayuri said firmly, taking a hidden scrib stance.

“Relax, relax, just give it a chance…” he said reaching in for a kiss.

Her fists went up to his chest, followed by an elbow across his chin, ending in a reversal stance that had her flipping him over her body, and having him land headfirst in the rain barrel.

“I will take that gold that you mentioned though, in exchange for sparing your life.” She said as the sobering-up, wet, Imperial stood up, spitting water out of his mouth.

“Anything, just leave me alone you crazy witch!” he said tossing a small leather sack, with the clink of septims into her hands.

Errisa noticed with comical delight as the Imperial man who went up soon after Sayuri, left with a red face, and wet clothes. She smiled back at Sayuri, as the Dark Petal sat at the table tossing the Imperials money on the table commenting that the drinks were on her.

Dralsie and Anssi knew what the man had gone upstairs for, as did Errisa, but she insisted that they let her handle this one alone. They wouldn’t always be there to help.

[minque]

Ahhh these two latest updates were so very very good! As usual I'll point out my favourite quotes:

“Say, girls. Has she ever been to Desele’s?” Anssi said with a mischievous look in her eye that was pointed right at Sayuri. “I mean when was the last time we were all in Suran at the same time?”

“No. No. No. NO!” Errisa started.

“You remember what happened last time. Genevieve had to bail us out from the Magistrate.” Dralsie finished.

“How was I supposed to know you had to have a permit to dance in there? Besides I’m not talking about using the kitty sugar this time.”

“Stop!” Errisa said putting a hand in Anssi’s face. “We really don’t want to give Sayuri the wrong impression. We are not….party girls. We do serious things.”

Ahhhh....Desele's...so funny, why of course they do serious things!!!! Using kitty sugar is most serious huh? I smiled reading this!

“It’s a place where men are boys, and women can be women.” Dralsie said with a chortle.

Word of utter wisdom....

“Are they?..Can they?...They’re naked!” Sayuri exclaimed.

Awwww..isn't she adorable? I love her!

It was equal parts stimulant and sensory enhancer, she soon discovered. The music, while strong in her mind before, largely due to her background with her lute, was more intense then she had ever felt. The dancers, before, simply dancing fleshpots became shamanistic dancers, their motions blurred, and their shadows on the wall were as dark spirits intent on summoning their dark liege. Suddenly, her eyes were drawn to the flame of the torch stand opposite to the stage. Its dancing flame was a center of a universe, a Magnus to Nirn. The flame began to speak in a strange language, it wasn’t words, it was ideas, pure thought in a spirit form.

So that's how it feels to be high as a chimney on kitty-sugar???? woah.....

The flame began to talk of the beginning time. The Mythic Dawn. The convention of the divines, and the creation of nirn, the ehlnofey, the earthbones, Lorkhan and Akatosh, space and time as one. The mundex arena, creation of separates, so that the fragments may see their way to wholeness, achieve heaven by violence!

This, my friend....is sheer poetry....do I need to say more?

[Black Hand]

The drinking of the cultists ended soon after, and they moved things over to a local inn, the Wailing Wharf. Sayuri and Errisa pairing up in one room, Dralsie and Anssi in another. The next few days passed uneventfully, with the ritual of daily life filling the space between now and then. Sayuri thought little of her first time. The feelings of guilt, if any, were eclipsed by her feelings of satisfaction at avenging her parents. The only thing she really thought of, was what now?

Genevieve Girarde stepped off the galleon, assisted by one of the crew, which believed they had developed quite a rapport with her over the last few days. Nothing could be further from the truth, as Genevieve was close to no one. Only her glib tongue made any believe that the frozen wasteland of her spirit was warm and inviting. The masks of cordiality and a subtle elitist look to her face matched her manner of dress. It was equal parts lavish and mundane; she stood out, yet blended in. She could be a noblewoman at the center of everyone’s attention one moment, and just another commoner in the crowd the next.

The sleeves and dress of her attire were a dark grey, loose and flowing, with lighter grey embroidery at the edges. Her bodice was wrapped in a dark leather corset, which reached down to her waist, and flowed up to her bosom. Wrapped around her bosom and shoulders was a dark fur adornment, that concealed all but her shoulders and neck. Hanging from that neck, she wore an exquisitely adorned amulet that few but the temple hierarchy, and other cultists would recognize as a relief of Mephala.

At the top of her white swan throat peered the coldly beautiful, angular face, dark of brow and mane, she wore an eccentrically elegant style, consisting of two braids in the back of her hair, and a part in the front that started on the right carrying a shock of hair slightly above her left eye, caressing her cheek as it disappeared to the back.


Her intense green eyes looked around the main square, her mind recalling the encoded package she had received, stating that they would be in Suran, but no more specific. Her mind took in all areas of the equation. Who was most socially dominant in the group? Where would that person likely take them? Why would they be there? They were always surprised by her uncanny ability to track them, and anyone else for that matter, down.

The Head Priestess glided agilely across the square to the Wailing Wharf Inn. Walking into a tavern floor of sailors of various ports of call. The smell of stale greef, and lit haze of tobacco and hackle-lo in the afternoon sun pouring in through grimy windows, setting a stage she had performed numerous times in.

Walking upstairs into the lodgings, she looked at the possible numerous doors, and with a few flicks of her eyes, she immediately rapped lightly on a door that seemed most logical, and within seconds, her equation was complete with the inquisitive, then smiling, face of Errisa.

Genevieve returned her smile placidly, gently pushing the door open further, cooing: “Sister!” followed with a slight embrace, and kisses on both cheeks. Her eyes then fell to the seated form of Sayuri, dressed in a fine white silk shirt, and long flowing red dress, the colors accentuated her skin and hair marvelously, making for a dazzling first impression on Genevieve.

“So, we finally meet little one. I’ve had so much set out for you these many years, some of which you have only begun to see. Welcome, sister, to the Black Rose.” Genevieve began, looking into Sayuris nervous eyes intensely.

[treydog]

This has to be your best work ever. There is a poetry (as someone else pointed out) and a "feel" to this story that is unique. The subject matter is dark, and that darkness is always present, but it does not overwhelm the humanity of the characters- at least, not yet.... Such a pleasure to read.

[Black Hand]

Evolution of Reaction:

[minque]

Ohhhh.....Your description of Genevieve was just marvellous! Yes yes...I can see her in my mind....what a true beauty she is. Just like your story..,As Treydog said, this has to be your best work ever....Now for my part I do have a soft spot for Seth...but this my friend.....mmmmm a story to my liking.

I'm so eager to learn what will happen next, the tension is slowly and delicately building up!

[Black Hand]

Ahh, thanks minque! With everyone so busy IRL I think everyone hates this story. But I do so love your comments.

[Kiln]

Ahh, thanks minque! With everyone so busy IRL I think everyone hates this story. But I do so love your comments.

I've been reading your work for a while mate, I just don't comment on many stories unless I have a question about something or I see something wrong with them.

[Black Hand]

Genevieve began her walk slowly to Sayuri, letting each step match the drumbeat of the pulse she could sense in her. She sat down on the bed next to Sayuri, her arm extended around her shoulder, and the emerald eyes of the High Priestess, met the sapphire eyes of the initiate.

Sayuri’s nervous mind felt as though it were a revenant of death that sat down next to her. The weight of her initiator pressing down on the mattress seemed unnatural, as though she somehow were lighter than a feather. This Breton was a true beauty, augmented with the subtle pigments of her expert face artistry; she was the embodiment of murder, sex, and secrets. Sayuri knew that while she liked men, she still felt an inkling of longing for the woman, to be her, to possess her. It was a feeling reminiscent of when she had first met her sister, Errisa. Desiring the darkness that threatened to swallow her innocence and soul. She had not given in easily, and dreaded, yet wanted this power that was shown to her.

“Your way has not been easy, I know. Before you has been set a web, each thread woven to your heart, your mind. Your very psyche, while conflicted, was set to this first conclusion.” She began, pressing a long, thin finger above Sayuri’s left breast, over her heart.

Then a malicious smile crept across Genevieve’s face. “And spinning webs is what we do, sister. For the Great Daedra herself is a body of contradictions. She is also a he. She is vain, yet she is humble. She is cruel, yet she is not without her kindness.”

Then her true emotionless façade broke through. ”But don’t think for one second that you’ve entered into an order that cares about your crying little emotions, weakness is not tolerated in any form. Your first time was nothing more than to please Mephala, to take your vengeance through passionate murder, sacrificing your virginity to your darker self, to bring you closer to us. Now you will serve, in your own way.”

[raggidman]

lol - evolution of emoticons


QUOTE

There was a small trail of clothes leading to Brithos’ bed, and in the dark torchlight two figures moved around under the sheets passionately like a snake captured in a sack desperate to escape.

It's all coming out here - from now on she will be known as Minque the minx


I hated the beginning - yukky sad little self-pitying thing. W/out the guts to act on her own initiative and for her own beliefs, or so it seemed. But she surprised me ... and the inducement to execute the killer of her parents is a positive.

There is a lot of truth here, and I see a lot of hard work to come. Keep it up mate.


Generally I've withstood the itch to tell people about this that or the other typo, but your last installment ends with a very confusing sentance:

"But don’t think for one second that you’ve entered into an order that cares about your crying little emotions, weakness is not tolerated in any form. Your first time was nothing more than to please Mephala, to take your vengeance through passionate murder, sacrificing your virginity to your darker self, to bring you closer to us. Now you will serve, in your own way.”

that I just do not understand.

It seems that what you intended was a contrast of statements as in: 'Now you that your needs have been satisfied you will employ your unique tastes, style and intuitions at Mephala's leasure.' Though perhaps you were seeking a darker and more brutal 'feel' than that?

This post has been edited by raggidman: May 23 2008, 11:55 AM

[Black Hand]

Yes, the statement was intended to be confusing. I had to spend several minutes thinking about it. This piece is proving to be far more challenging than I thought, as I'm not just trying to write a story about an assassin who 'kills in the name of Mephala' I'm trying to write about a girl who discovers herself in Mephalas Cult.

Mephala herself is perhaps the most ambiguous Daedra Prince, in spite of her almost forward nature, the closer one gets, the harder she is to understand. On the one hand shes demanding soft 'stereotypical' femininity from her cultists, on the other hand she demands that they feel nothing. A series of contradictions tht walk hand in hand, that is Mephala, and her followers.

And yes, her first target was selected for just that reason, they made her on offer that she could not refuse.