Tiotio's Story

In the span of time it took for everything to happen Pravus could only watch. As Myon slipped into a wall and disappeared, her panicked cries echoing farther down the halls and getting more distant with time as well as Aera dashing from the room to find her Pravus stood to follow but had to stop and steady himself as his back threatened to give out again. Without proper bracing and alignments some of his bones stood a risk of getting even more damaged with each movement he made.

He took his shovel and placed the handle down to the ground, using the shovel as a walking stick for the current time. This way he could support himself and travel about, however nowhere nearly as fast as he was able to before the combat and the explosion.

He stepped from their room and out into the hallway at the walking pace of a crippled old man. His bones occasionally made a crack or a pop in protest to his movements regardless of his speed. Between that and his labored, heavy footsteps his approach was a secret to no one when he reached Aera's destination. As he approached the open doorway that's when he saw her.

A young woman standing there with a body most finely shaped and grace enough to match. She was clearly an albino but she was not ill nor poor of sight as many belonging to her rare genetic defect tend to be. She was, to say the least, a unique sight. However Pravus found there was something else about her that grabbed him. Something about her somehow drew him to her somehow but he could not tell what it was. All he knew was that she stood out more than the others, which when dwelt upon did not make sense.

Given the colorful diversity of entities currently residing within the base of the Nameless why this one in particular would be of more note was quite an odd detail indeed. For now, Pravus put such concerns to rest because they were simply that, odd details.

He looked over to see Aera and Myon were reunited thanks to... Well, the odd albino. He looked from the two over toward the albino and the monkey who assisted them back at the battlefield. It was a battlefield he needed to return to soon, however he was not getting there any faster unless he could convince the leader to let him stay on this magic realm.

"I take it you had some hand in this?" He questioned the albino, leaving the connotation ambiguous intentionally.

There was something devastating about looking at the undead, as if watching her own plummeting demise and the unknown of the afterlife unravelling before her eyes. The shadows seemed to congregate at the point in which the gravedigger stood, like midnight toffee pulled and shaped by shrivelled fingers. Somewhere in her captivated horror, she remembered to feel an inkling of fear. She had long outlived her time - in a way - and she startled at the thought that he might take her away.

714 B.C.E. - she was born a long time ago. Time passed differently in the Elvish realms of Mithrandír, and when she returned to earth, she found her home in ruins. Where the forest illuminated in magic once stood, a skyscraper stretched infinite. The dancing Fey had been evacuated of their home and tourists meandered instead. Millenniums had passed, and she remained young and beautiful. Time crawled in the Elvish Realms. Yet she could not die, not as long as the ancient powers kept her tethered to the world, to Mithrandír and its undying magic. She should return to the Elvish Realms, but Keres desired the freedom she had been denied and she was selfish, she had always been selfish.

A strand of white hair tickled her incandescent eyes but she barely noticed it, so captivated by the seemingly phlegmatic creature before her. She recalled seeing him then on the battlefield, but he had seemed rather ordinary - or as ordinary as anyone in this ridiculous competition was - but now that he was so near, she felt as if roots had crawled from the hollows of the floorboards to grasp her feet and hold her in place. He seemed so utterly ancient, his stance weary, the shovel he leaned against the only thing keeping him upright and present in their time. She felt as if she exhaled too heavily, he might flutter away in ashes. But he was surprisingly solid, not see-through at all, and younger than she'd believed.

"I take it you had some hand in this?"

"I beg your pardon?" Keres glanced at the two young girls beside her and Tiotio, as if seeing them for the first time. "Oh, I... No," she said. "No, it was all her." Keres gestured toward Aera. "Keres," she introduced, her eyes fluttering between staring intently at Pravus and darting away to avoid direct gaze. She was flabbergasted at her surprise, at how unprepared her reactions were. She'd studied them all, learned all she could from stories, taverns, witnesses, friends... Yet here she was, her ocean of charm flowing dry. She turned to the small girl who'd been trapped in the walls and the girl clutching her, eyes flooded with tears, Keres' expression quickly slipping into one of genuine concern. "Are you both alright? Please, do not hesitate to rest," she said, gesturing to her bed. "You, too," she said, forcing herself to meet the gravedigger's eyes. "You were very brave," she said to the young girls, a smile that illuminated the room like a warm fire in the coolest of winters forming on her blood red lips.

Ivan felt the demon shift his center of gravity as he had to exert force to keep a hold on the demons arm. Was he falling over, maybe he was trying to break free. It didn't matter, as Ivan almost in a reflex unleashed the electricity he had prepped to paralyse the demon. The demon spasmed and then fell back onto Ivan. As he dragged the demon onto his bed the resistanceless limbs hang like boiled spaghetti on a fork, his feet dragging along the ground and his arms sweeping around as he shifted balance. As he looked down onto the demon as it lay on the bed he took of his white cloak. While most of his clothing was still bloodfree, albeit dirty from the battle, the cloak was stained by large red bloodstains. He dropped trew the cloak to the corner where the mace stood and walked to the door. "If you haven't fainted from the pain and bloodloss, take this time to think about what I mentioned while the enchantment does it's magic." He said calm as he stepped outside and closed the door.

It wouldn't be a bad idea to make some small talk and get to know some of the others, afterall chances where they'd have to get along with eachother. What he was going to say to the supposed leader was already set in stone, and that should secure his recruitment. He walked through the hallway and stopped when noticed the gravedigger, the monkey, the swordswoman and her acompanying ghost. They had fought together, but beyond that they hadn't talked. Not like there had been any time to talk, but still if anywhere this would be a good place to start. He also noticed an alibno woman that he could only discribe as being flawless, a rare sight, even for someone who had seen many mages with magically changed appearances.

He seemed to have walked in on something, however he had no idea what. Ivan heard the woman say: "No, it was all her." With a gesture to the swordwoman. Followed by her saying her name. Keres, as the albino woman identified herself, had a certain charm, one that tried to get a grip on Ivan, yet never really managing to latch on. It didn't take him long before noticing it, putting him in a more carefull position. But perhaps he was wrong, afterall there had been a few mages who had permanently been cursed with similar charms. Though it would probably not be the wisest idea to ask directly about it. When Keres smiled he deliberatly diverted his gaze from her. He looked over to the gravedigger who was leaning on his shovel, and by the looks of it not for fun. "You should probably take her words to heart and rest while the enchantment takes care of whatever is making you lean on that shovel." Ivan calmly said to the gravedigger.

"I am no kid Lady Keres. These tears belong to Myon, my other half. As I am the physical body, the tears come from my eyes when she cries. Please note that just because I'm a couple hundred years younger than you doesn't mean you can treat me like some kid. To answer your question, yes. Both of us are ok."

Hearing her Mistress' rude correction of Keres' use of words, Myon cut her off before Aera could berate her with worse.

"M-Mistress please stop... It didn't go well last time we met an albino... K-Keres was it? Thank you for helping me. T-This is very embarrassing as I am a phantom who had gotten herself stuck in a wall. I noticed you had Elvish symbols on your body... With your name and all, I can't help but ask.... You're a human brought up by elves correct? I was wondering because I have only read of such symbols in books...U-Um you don't have to answer though. If you'd rather we l-leave your room we will."

Having just figured out that she was inside Keres' and Tiotio's room, she became quite flustered. Her physical body had no expression change nor emotional change since entering the room. The difference between the two halves was unnerving. It was clear Myon is the half that has a sense of morality.

An awkward silence fell upon the room.

The room filled up as first the masked man, then magic Ivan entered. Tiotio transferred her bo to her tail and took a step forward, laying one hand against the masked man’s arm. He was still coated in grime, dried now. It flaked off him dusting the floor and Tiotio’s clothes.

“They are right. You walk like a broken corpse.” Tiotio tilted her head to the side. “You smell like a broken corpse too. Are you a corpse? Either way, you should sit down. You can rest here, or I can help you back to your room.”

Keres could barely conceal her surprise as the young girl spoke. It did not take her long to weave the cloth from the strands of silk she'd gathered. Aera Kirishma, master swordsman, apparent genius and assumed man. She'd spoken to countless, gathered her contacts and organised all the Nameless recruits into neat piles and categories but never had she suspected the person so feared and held in awe by all who knew him, or rather, of him, to be a young girl. Never had she suspected that anyone would see through her like a sword through water.

"I am no kid Lady Keres." The title shocked her and she nearly stumbled back in surprise. The Lady Keres. It was all anyone called her in Mithrandír. She thanked her training that she did not allow the shock she felt reverberate through her bones show through her skin. Instead her head remained tilted, her eyes narrowed in confusion. "These tears belong to Myon, my other half. As I am the physical body, the tears come from my eyes when she cries. Please note that just because I'm a couple hundred years younger than you doesn't mean you can treat me like some kid. To answer your question, yes. Both of us are ok."

A couple hundred years younger.

She knew. Nobody knew. She held all the signs of being an ordinary human, twenty years of age. She did not have the blood or breath of an immortal, of even a mage. Keres looked to all eyes, seemed to all hands, ordinary. Striking, Goddess-like perhaps, but certainly not ancient. She stifled a gasp. She'd spent four years hiding from the Elves - although she did not suspect they were looking for her, four years was little more than a month in Mithrandír - only to be found out by someone shorter than even her? It was heresy. Her plans would not be thwarted by an arrogant child. She would not be defeated by a small girl. Keres plastered a gentle smile on her face and allowed a small, delicate laugh that sounded to be wind chimes rattled by a gentle breeze. That was right, she reminded herself. Aera Kirishma was a gentle breeze.

"M-Mistress please stop... It didn't go well last time we met an albino... K-Keres was it? Thank you for helping me. T-This is very embarrassing as I am a phantom who had gotten herself stuck in a wall. I noticed you had Elvish symbols on your body... With your name and all, I can't help but ask.... You're a human brought up by elves correct? I was wondering because I have only read of such symbols in books...U-Um you don't have to answer though. If you'd rather we l-leave your room we will."

This time, she did not allow the shock to hold onto her long. Few recognised the symbols that curled around her ivory skin but some did. It was uncommon, rare even amongst the Elves. Only the High King's truest and closest held them and even then, only a small symbol on a palm or chest. After all, it was inked with the King's own blood.

"Oh, these?" she remarked, arching her slim fingers to the light and allowing her sleeve to fall to reveal the intricate crimson tattoos. She acted as if she'd forgotten they were on her body, which was true. So used to the patterns she was that she hardly noticed them, only the agonising and perpetual torture they brought. No mortal should have such power, but you cannot survive without them, Keressya. "Yes." She smiled, tilting her head to the side and shifting her wrist in delicate motions so the lines glowed incandescent. "I am a High Priestess of Thalvador," she explained with a bob of her head to Myon. She assumed they would know that Thalvador was an expansive temple in Mithrandir, secluded in the white mountains of eternal snow.

"I cannot apologise enough for my rudeness," Keres said to both Aera and her spiritual half, bowing her head in apology. "I did not mean to imply that you were a child, only that you," she gestured to Myon. "Were very brave. I could not have coped as well as you if I, in turn, had been trapped. Nothing could be worse, I think." It was true. She would give anything for her freedom.

She turned to the tall figure she'd noticed but chose to ignore earlier then. She glanced at the cyan dyed ribbon at his waist and instantly dropped into a low curtsy. Strands of pale silk fluttered over her shoulder, coming loose from the elaborate clasp that held her long hair in place. Beads of rubies and ebony inlaid with mother-of-pearl glistened through the soft locks. She lifted her incandescent gaze to his eyes like cut topaz as she rose. He had been by far the easiest to find, being affiliated with the Thylysium counsel of Magi. The Elves dealt often with them. The greatest danger was in him recognising her as The Lady Keressya, Elvish Princess and Heiress to the throne of Anaranë, ruling kingdom of Mithrandír, four years too late from her day trip.

She regretted exposing the symbols on her body so foolishly and quickly dropped her silk sleeves over her hands, thanking the long train of her dress that hid her feet. The Eternal Magi could read magical languages like no other, even the ancient Elvish tongues. They were the latin historians of all realms and the death of her disguise. It would be trickier than she'd expected, what with the little swordsman and now this nuisance of a mage. She hoped he perished in his sleep or tripped on his magic and imploded into a million tiny, indistinguishable particles.

Keres beamed at the towering mage, her teeth like blinding pearls that glowed in the dark. A dimple appeared on her right cheek. Her spine warmed as waves of allure radiated from her like a violent ripple in a pond. She urged for him to be drawn to her like a moth to a flame as all others before him had been. No one but Elves and humans had ever resisted her and she refused to believe anyone with such luscious silver hair and startling gold eyes could be anything but supernatural. He was not an Elf. She would know if he was. She would conquer him. If he resisted her magic, he would not resist her charm or beauty. She would conquer him.

"Our rooms are quite small," she remarked with a voice like honey and a smile to rival sunlight. Take the hint.

"No, it was all her." She gestured to Aera. Quite an interesting detail indeed he noted, keeping this in mind as he quickly diverted his attention to Myon and Aera. The albino had introduced herself to him, a name he'd remember if only because her voice stuck to his mind for no other purpose than to stick there. She suggested the three of them go and get rest. It was a kind gesture but useless to Pravus as no amount of rest could undo the injuries he'd sustained.

The mage from earlier stepped in and spoke to him, alerting him to his presence. "You should probably take her words to heart and rest while the enchantment takes care of whatever is making you lean on that shovel." The mage suggested, adding to what Keres had already proposed. "Unfortuna-" He was about to say before Aera and Myon started arguing with Keres, mostly Aera arguing while Myon attempted to mend relations. As that was going on a hand suddenly settled upon his arm. He couldn't say it didn't surprise him slightly as he wasn't looking when it was placed upon his arm but he did not react. He simply remained as he was, the only change being the direction his attention was allocated.

“They are right. You walk like a broken corpse.” The monkey looked at him curiously. “You smell like a broken corpse too. Are you a corpse? Either way, you should sit down. You can rest here, or I can help you back to your room.” Again yet another person proposing he take his rest. "I have no need of rest." Was all he said, his tone cold and lacking of any real emotion. That should set things straight he figured. He took a step forward towards Keres, the monkey's hand brushing off a cloud of dried dust and sending flakes of old mud scattering to the ground, and then took a semi step back just askew of the doorway so he could see everyone. He didn't appreciate people sneaking up on him.

Myon had raised an interesting question and Keres's answer was even more interesting. The tattoos imprinted on her arm were an interesting magical inscription indeed. Pravus was not an uneducated fellow and Tiatha was the height of his worlds quite extensive magical knowledge. Between basic education, his training and experience in the military he could make some basic deductions on the crimson runes that decorated the High Priestess of Thalvador.

His first thoughts were of the many barbarians he had fought. The magic of each tribe his legion had fought varied about as wildly as the nature of the area and the people themselves did, which was quite a lot. Often however he would see chieftains, champions or even the druids and shamans themselves use drawn runes made from rare inks upon their bodies to augment themselves.

His following thoughts were grabbed when he noticed certain key symbols used in the runes which were familiar. He remembered small snippets of the runes engraved on orichalcum conduits which matched a couple that were present on her arms. He never did know the magical significance of them but right now he figured those runes might have something in common with those which were written upon the towering machines of Sed.

He continued to dwell upon the nature of those runes even as she dropped her sleeve. His inquisitive nature rarely let him leave a puzzling facet such as this be. As deep in thought as he was he didn't seem to notice her practically shining her attention onto the mage. It was only when she spoke that Pravus looked up from her arms to her face which sent him a feeling which he could only really describe as... Odd.

"Our rooms are quite small," Was an odd thing to say without context. He didn't really get the purpose of the statement, her meaning passing him by without even so much as a notice. "It is. This establishment is poor." He responded to her accurate but out of place observation. "I do find those elvish runes quite interesting myself. I've seen many runes in the past." He mentioned to her, his eyes looking straight into hers through his mask as though he were staring out from the dark depths of the deepest tomb. Normally he would of kept his inquiries to himself, pondering over it without really bothering anyone but there was something making him more curious than he was normally, which was fairly curious already. The runes were a mystery he was mildly invested in solving and it was all simply because of a feeling that was...

Odd.

When Ivan heard the monkey ask whether the gravedigger was a corpse, he glanced over quickly. And when he mentioned he had no need for rest, Ivan got a semi-confirmation on what he previously had thought to notice from the man himself. "A restless dead, it would seem." He thought as he turned his eyes back to Keres who displayed the complex elvish tattoos at her wrists. Complex they were, while he could not decipher them without a closer look and more time, the view he had was more than enough to see that it was more than a mere religious tattoo. They were meant for magic of some kind, and were probably not the only tattoos on her body.

While he was trying to decode the symbols as accuratly as he could from the distance, Keres dropped into a low curtsy before rising up to meet his eyes with her crimson gems. Followed by her quickly hiding the markings, most likely to prevent Ivan from reading them properly. He showed a slight grin and she responded with a blinding smile. Followed only moments after by the charm he noticed earlier becoming stronger. His grin widened a little, the charm was stronger but the effects were the same. He could resist it, maybe because he was guarded against it from noticing it earlier, maybe because of the many charms he had faced in Thylysium, perhaps those nightly visits from the liches trying to corrupt him in his dreams had given him some resistance, maybe something else he wasn't aware of. It mattered not, at least not now. She was activly trying to secude him, and considdering the way she directly looked at him, he was the main target. Confirming to him that she was hiding more than those markings on her wrists, however without knowing what calling her out would have no benefit to him.

Keres followed up with a subtle hint, which he could have taken in multiple directions. The gravekeeper however made clear that he wasn't one of subtle hints as he reacted with a rather straightforward reaction. And an equally straighforward mention of interest in her tattoos. "While I do agree that elvish runes are quite fascinating, I do think that it goes for the all of us that we each carry some interesting oddities. That we might want to know from one another, especially with the foresight of having to work together in the future." He said with a calm voice while his eyes glanced from the swordwoman and ghost, to the monkey and to the gravedigger, before returning back to the crimson gems and pearls of Keres.

"That being said, I am quite surprised to see a High Priestess from Mithrandir, if I recall correctly where the temple of Thalvador is located, to bow the instant they see the counsels ribbon. To think we are that highly regarded beyond the Ancarian continent is quite a surprise. But, Lady Keres, outside of official audiencies with the counsel I'd like to skip such formalities as it feels as if I am standing on a non-existant pedestal." He said with the same calm as before. As he recalled there were certain elvish civilizations that called the religious by the same title as royalty, however he couldn't recall which exactly, but Myon had already called her as such and it sort of sounded natural. "For now it would be best to keep a close eye on her, it might be nothing, but she seems set on making me believe there is something." He thought as he stopped talking.

"Ivan. Be careful of her charms. They won't work on me as I'm devoid of anything for which they could manipulate....not so much for my other half... Just be careful alright?"

Aera whispered to Ivan before heading for the door. She had sensed Keres' outwardly charisma had...shifted...so to say. It occurred right after making the quip about her age. Deciding it to be better if she left before she acts on that shift, she stood near the door and waited for her other half to follow.

Myon was doing nothing but floating there, now free of panic, she was drawn to the light from which she had seen earlier. She wasn't sure why but she felt like a moth staring at a fire...and overwhelming urge to fly to it... Something kept her from doing so which is why she remains un-moving. Thinking it best to catch up with her Mistress, Myon flew over to Aera and the both waited for Pravus.

" U-Um, Mister Pravus. Are you coming? We'll head back by ourselves if you wish to stay."

NULL

A warm, comfortable aura engulfed the room. The force of it was so intense that Tiotio felt momentarily dizzy. She assumed it was the effects of the healing magics on the rooms, but as she recovered, turning away from the beak masked man, she saw Keres and felt a deep appreciation for the woman’s presence. She felt safe and comfortable.

Words hung in the air, more tense, it seemed, than was due in such a calm, welcoming place. She took her bo from her tail and vaulted up to the shelf, settling back into her meditative stance now that the excitement seemed to be over.

The young swordsman and her ghostly half prepared to leave the room in a much more ordinary way than how they’d entered it. Tiotio had liked magic Ivan’s idea that they should share their odd histories and abilities with each other, as she longed to learn more about these beings. But the air did not seem to be one of casual conversation.

She put her bo across her lap and watched the two figures at the center of the room. Keres, the soft line of her body looking like cloth draped gracefully in the air, and magic Ivan, his body tense and eyes alert.

It seemed there was another exception to the magic the Elves and her father bestowed upon her - Ivan Witherbane. Keres thought he was aptly named. He withered her self-esteem and lived to be the bane of her existence. Perhaps not his first name, however, she was quite certain 'Ivan' meant he was a 'Gift from God.' Gift my ass. He was more like 'Gift from whatever cursed realm he came from.'

"It is. This establishment is poor," replied the Gravedigger. His voice was oddly soothing, a low, palliative croon that would not startle or wake the dead. Which was the point, she supposed. Still, it was oddly strange to hear him speak, like he was impossibly far away on the other side of a veil. In the Elvish realms, there were no corpses to gather. Their dead returned to the energy they once were and scattered like crushed diamonds and starlight in the wind. In Mithrandír, the quality of your soul and the strength of your magic determined the beauty of your death. She would have no such pleasantries, merely disintegrating like all other humans. At least, that's what she thought. Perhaps the shadowed creature before her now would gather her remains. Where did mortal souls go? Elves lived on in mountains, rivers, and their undying magics that forever found a host one way or another, but what became of people? Of demons or the undead who died, again? Did they - including her - simply cease to exist? She found herself oddly comforted by the thought. Peace and quiet at last. There would be no more suffering.

Anyway, Pravus did not appear to have grasped her hint, or otherwise chose to ignore its true interpretation.

"I do find those elvish runes quite interesting myself. I've seen many runes in the past." She observed him with a tilted head, wondering how long he had lived - or, well, lived in his after life. She knew he'd been around for at least fifty years, which was the oldest sighting of him she was able to track. Perhaps he was even older. Careful, a voice warned in her mind, sounding unnervingly like her tutors, the High Priests of Thalvador. She had to be cautious when dealing with the Gravedigger. She knew the littlest about him and it was often the most powerful who were the most unseen. He might seem quiet and a part of the shadows, but he was a Nameless recruit, a living dead, and surely dangerous. Keres met those hollow glass eyes, and wondered if he had been a man once. She wondered what he looked like underneath, and decided she would find out. One day.

"We must share our knowledge of runes some time," she replied with a soft smile. "You must have some very interesting stories to tell." She starved for knowledge. Keres wanted to know it all and what better way than through one who'd met and tended to so many dead? Keres brushed her fingers over his arm as she spoke. It was a feather's touch, a brief exchange of atoms, but she felt the warm electric jolt of energy flowing between them like a taste of ecstasy. Her touch was more addictive than even her presence, as if each half of a soul had found the other and now were finally complete.

"While I do agree that elvish runes are quite fascinating, I do think that it goes for the all of us that we each carry some interesting oddities. That we might want to know from one another, especially with the foresight of having to work together in the future."

Keres brought her attention to him and her eyes narrowed but a millimetre. Had she truly not affected him whatsoever? Might it be because she was ill? She was in a perpetual state of terminal illness - but death was not in her horizon, she was quite certain she would survive if impaled to a wall. She would simply spend the rest of her existence shallowly breathing like a living corpse. Ah, the joys of Elvish magic. Keres had long adapted to her state of varying states of malady. The Magi was simply utterly immune. Just like that annoying little brat with the silver hair.

That's it, she decided. All creatures with silver hair had the heads of bricks, skulls made of concrete steel, so stubborn they were immune to all influence. She officially disliked all silver haired people. A lock of her own snow white hair brushed her collar bones. This is different, she reasoned. Her hair was not silver, it was white. Silver was difficult to ornament, white went with everything. Silver had the danger of being overpowering, white was unusual enough to be ethereal but common enough to be fashionable, she told herself. Keres could not wait for all the recruits to perish or die or whatever it was they did so she could return to her normal self. She was quickly growing weary of the soft spoken words and silly acts of kindness. She had better things to do. Men to bed, women to taste, whisky to drown in...

"That being said, I am quite surprised to see a High Priestess from Mithrandir, if I recall correctly where the temple of Thalvador is located, to bow the instant they see the counsels ribbon. To think we are that highly regarded beyond the Ancarian continent is quite a surprise. But, Lady Keres, outside of official audiencies with the counsel I'd like to skip such formalities as it feels as if I am standing on a non-existant pedestal."

She gave the mage a polite nod. "Of course, whatever pleases you..." She summoned a blush to her cheeks. "I apologise. What would you have me call you?" Normal Nameless recruits did not know the names of everyone before meeting them in person.

Keres spared the two young girls a glance as they prepared to leave, eyeing the leader of the duo in particular. She would have to keep an eye on that one. She was already presenting herself to be a nuisance. The swordsman saw too much.

Tiotio leapt onto the shelf Keres had first found her. The monkey was by far Keres' favourite of all the recruits presently in her and Tiotio's room. Second and third were Pravus and the ghost in the wall. At least they could be controlled. She watched the glint of topaz gold from the corners of her eyes. Unlike the Silverwares. Her face illuminated as she kept her gaze on the animal meditating above her. She had an odd appreciation for Tiotio's straightforwardness and unintentional humour. She would be the most sorry to lie to and betray her. Keres' smile fell around the corners, a slither of guilt winding up her leg like a poisonous snake. She shook the weight from her body before it pierced and consumed her.

Keres would not let a monkey and a conscience defeat her.

As the swordswoman passed Ivan she wispered him words of caution, she had noticed Keres' charms too. Then with a quick question from Myon the gravekeeper followed the two out of the room, closing the door behind them. Now it was just the three of them in the room, the monkey on the shelf, himself and Keres.

During the last few minutes of conversation he had noticed two things about her. One, she tended to make flirtatious passes. Two, when he suggested to share knowledge, she seemed unsettled, maybe because of his lack of feedback towards her charm, in voice or behaviour. Hopefully now with just him and the monkey for her to try and influence she would stop her charm, as even though he resisted it, it was still an annoyance to be made aware of constantly.

However she seemed politely compliant as she with a blush asked for his name. "Ivan would do." He replied. "At least here I won't be called Sir Witherbane, Counselman Ivan, Counselman Witherbane or as the students tend to call me Overlord of the labs and library." As he thought his eyes wandered off to the monkey on the shelf. He still didn't know her name, and calling her monkey would be insulting, he'd assume. "Forgive me if I missed it somewhere before, but I still don't know your name." He said looking at the monkey.

“Tiotio. Nothing very odd or interesting has ever happened to me, well, besides this,” she used her bo to gesture to the walls around them. “Though one times I was assaulted by a well trained group of what must have been very small horses.”

She spun the bo in her hands absently, the tips of it only just clearing the low ceiling.

“Or maybe they were very large rats, they did have very long tails. They didn’t want to talk to me, so I never figured out what they wanted.

“Those are elvish runes, Keres? Elves are jerks. Or, at least all the elves I’ve met were jerks. But they were all in exile from their homes. It could be they were jerks because they were in exile, or,” she raised a brow, “in exile because they were jerks. Were the elves you knew very rude?”

Aera Kirishma left the room, to her displeasure. She did not like leaving her enemies - or anyone, for that matter - with an ill impression of her. Furthermore, her other half followed her out of the room and soon, the Grave Tender did, too. She was quite enjoying their frivolous company. They were significantly more interesting than the High Elves of Thalvador. Now they could've slaughtered her with their lengthy lectures on the benefits of freezing waterfalls on the Elvish psyche and spirit. She'd spent over two millenniums as a virgin. The first thing she'd done when she left was to break the ridiculous vows of celibacy the monks imposed upon her.

"Ivan would do," the Counselman said shortly. She nodded in acknowledgement, showering him with her radiancy for all it was worth. She didn't think he would be phased if she made a million beads of light cascade over him. The phlegmatic Magi seemed apathetic to her advances. Perhaps he was not interested in the opposite sex. Her dimple deepened with her smile. Challenge accepted.

"Forgive me if I missed it somewhere before, but I still don't know your name," Ivan spoke toward the monkey on the shelf.

“Tiotio. Nothing very odd or interesting has ever happened to me, well, besides this,” came the apathetic reply. “Though one times I was assaulted by a well trained group of what must have been very small horses. Or maybe they were very large rats, they did have very long tails. They didn’t want to talk to me, so I never figured out what they wanted." Dogs? Keres hid a laugh behind her sleeve. She looked to Tiotio with a grin. I think I might be falling in love.

“Those are elvish runes, Keres?" Her grin faltered. "Elves are jerks." Keres laughed, this time not bothering to muffle her dancing voice in the air, sounding like the waltz of a dozen wind chimes. "Or, at least all the elves I’ve met were jerks. But they were all in exile from their homes. It could be they were jerks because they were in exile, or, in exile because they were jerks. Were the elves you knew very rude?” She shook her head, her laugh drifting into a light chuckle.

"Yes," she replied, humour trembling the letters of her words. "Yes, Tiotio. You are absolutely right. I agree," she said excitedly. She'd never met anyone else who held her own opinion, or perhaps she had. No one was brave enough to vocalise it, however. Elves are as powerful as - "They are jerks," she echoed. "Worse, they are deluded. They think every other race is crude whilst they remain saints. The epitomes of perfection," she said the last sentence in a low, stern voice, mimicking the monotonous speech of her elders. "We are the vessels of the pure and natural Magicks," she mocked with an upward tilt of her head, glancing at Tiotio past her slim and delicate upturned nose. "Unlike those pesky Magi." She turned to Ivan with a cheeky smile playing on her lips and an apologetic shrug. "Sorry."

Keres glided over to her bed with an uncanny grace, seating herself with flourish. "Ugh," she grunted in mock disgust. "A commoner's lodgings!" Crimson eyes squinted at the sheets as she pretended to pick up something from it with pinched fingers. She gasped in horror. "What is this heresy? No, it cannot be... Someone, someone..." she muttered. "Has procreated in these chambers." She feigned dizziness and collapsed onto her bed, an arm slung across her forehead in despair. She closed her eyes for a few moments and remained silent. "And that," she finally said in her own voice. "Is why I left." Among other things.

In one abrupt movement, she sat up on her bed. "It is getting quite late. You must both be worn from today's events. You will return to your own rooms?" she asked or told Ivan - it was hard to tell. "Unless you would care to join us," she teased - or challenged.

Tiotio as the monkey introduced herself mentioned that she had nothing odd or interresting happen to her before, asside from an attack by a group of trained tiny horses. She then went on to give her disposition on the elves, saying that they are jerks. Keres agreed completely with her. Keres then put on an act mimicking the elves general behaviour and mocking them with it. She also more or less mentioned that she left because of the elvish disposition to sleeping with anyone that isn't their married husband. Which seemed to be quite likely to be true given her current behaviour, even though she is, or was, a high priestess.

Keres then went on to invite Ivan to join her for the night in a teasing manner, or perhaps challenging him. Perhaps hoping that which a barrage of magic couldn't secure, a night in bed with the high priestess would solve. "To be invited to spend the night with such a beautiful lady such as yourself is certainly very tempting..." Ivan said as he walked to the bed eres was sitting on. He placed his hand on the bed next to Keres, then leaned over as if going to kiss Keres. But his head slid past hers and he softly whispered into her ears: "But I can't accept the offer." Of course he wouldn't go in on an offer made by someone that kept trying to influence him. Beyond that, even if he was okay with spending the night with Keres, she wasn't the only one in the room and he didn't want to put Tiotio in an awkward position.

Null

Even as Magic Ivan was leaving the room, Tiotio was still chuckling at Keres’ mock impression of elves. It was quite an accurate impression, in Tiotio’s experience.

Her small laughs often ended with a hoot or a squeal, and finally subsided in one large yawn.

The rest of what passed between the other two had been all but lost on Tiotio. It had seemed to her they were talking around something, but she was completely unable to deduce what.

She considered asking the white haired woman exactly what it was about, but as Keres had said, they were all worn, and the healing magics of the room were lulling her to sleep.

“Good night Keres,” she said, nodding to the woman.

She wrapped her tail up in her lap, and closed her eyes, drifting to sleep, still perched on the shelf.

[Null]

Aizen awoke with a start beside the bed of his friend, the gorgeous rabbit eared woman still unconscious after the battle and draped in only a blanket that pressed tightly to her perfect form. However he did not notice these things, not the fake sun reflecting off of her cheeks, its warm glow caressing her lithe and attractive form, not the slight rosiness of her soft face or the messy morning after hair she'd gifted herself in her restless turning. All of this was lost on him as his hand stay entwined with hers, grabbing hold of her tightly as if letting go for even a second would mean she slipped away. He was startled when a woman came and tapped his shoulder, calling him to turn to her, it was Launa, one of the officers within his guild with raven black hair down to the back of her knee's and a Victorian style dress that fell loosely around her frame, apparently it was time to review the new recruits. He grunted but once and stood, giving himself a moment and allowing his lips to softly grace the rabbits fragile form upon the cheek, before turning away and walking from the room and out through another exit in the wall, his hand slowly losing its grip on the womans and leaving it to lay upon the bed gracefully as he appeared in a long hall-way lined by doors.

Aizen walked clapped his hands together and then gradually pulled them apart, straining from the action as if they were magnetized to one another as electricity danced between them, with a growl he slammed them together and then pressed his hands to his chest. An uncomfortable jolt dancing through his chest and into his heart as the magic spread through his system, he took a halting step forward, followed by another before he reached a nearby door, he took a deep breath as the hallway behind him was caked in illusion and knocked. A knock that was similar on every door across the hall as a dozen similar Aizens awoke the recruits, ready to lead them across the fake halls and into a similarly fake interview room in pairs or whatever grouping lay within the lodgings. All would be trailed at once and in the same place, they just wouldn't know it.

He sighed once more and after leading each group into the rooms sat down and asked his first question "Why did you stay?". The room was small but well decorated, a coffee table sitting between Aizen and the recruits, a comfortable and plush chair awaiting each person including Aizen himself and various paintings, counters, ornaments and other such things adorning the room, the room was as you would expect from your average well cared for mansion, decadent and perfect to a point. Upon the table was a hearty breakfast tailored to each person and a favored drink to match. To one with training to recognize patterns such as this and the manner Aizen presented himself to each particular pairing, it could be gleaned that he had either amazing analytical skills, or a mind reader at his disposal.