BZPRPG: Kentoku Archipelago

IC:

The fishing boat neared the coast and Robalta waved a small bag, it's contents clinking noisily across the water. The owner of the boat beckoned for the two Vilda to climb aboard, then asked the Dastue what they needed. Robalta told the fisherwoman the bag of coins was hers if she could bring the both of them to Oki. The fisherwoman agreed.

Robalta breathed a sigh of relief, her eye just tearing up.

"We're going home, Raiyo. We're finally going home."

...

A few short hours later and the loss of some currency, Robalta and the faithful Vilda handmaiden stood on Vilda soil on the island of Oki. Everything was just as I left it, Robalta thought to herself. The trees were just as high as before, the plants sprawled across the landscape and twittering of birds could be heard not too far away. The Empire may be tearing itself apart in the rest of the archipelago, but here Nature ruled oblivious .

Robalta couldn't wait to return to the castle, to tend her gardens, to gossip with the rest of the Dastue. Politics and battle were for other clans - for the Vilda, the simple pleasures of life were all that were needed.  Now she was home, Robalta could finally relax.

"Dastue Robalta!" exclaimed an older Menti that caught sight of the returning Vilda. "You're just in time. The Committee meeting is starting soon. You'd better come along."

Robalta looked shocked.

"I - I didn't realize its been so long..." She looked at Raiyo. "You've been through a lot the past few days. Technically you shouldn't even know about the Committee, but I think you've earned the right to observe. Yes, I think I'd like it for you to come with me." She tried nodding to convince herself everything was fine. "What do you say? Are you  up for one more adventure  today?"

IC: Returning to the Vilda compound brought a wave of relief to Raiyo. It felt as if she was returning home for the first time in years, not days. She wanted nothing more than to flop down in bed, hibernate for a week, then return to her duties like nothing had ever happened. Just forget her entire time in Sado. This new... thing from Robalta caught her completely by surprise.

"I... I would be honored, Datsue. I can assist making everyone comfortable, it will be good to ease back into my duties."

OOC: Update on Kyoushi

IC: Seiryuu (Castle Kyoushi, Oki)

Minami's condition was improving.

That was good.

In spite of their apparent alliance to the new Dastana government, Kyoushi had elected to completely shut itself off from the rest of the archipelago. The cause? A sudden downturn in Minami's condition.

But now she was getting better. Not healthy, but healthier. For now. She was even able to walk a few steps with a cane; she collapsed immediately after, of course, but that was promising.

In spite of this good news -- or perhaps because of it -- Seiryuu couldn't focus on his normal menial duties. So he was doing something he hadn't done in a long time.

"First, crossing sound. Second step, surpassing distance. Three steps, arrival. Awaken, Sandanzuki!"

"... What manner of nonsense is this? It would be advisable for myself to return to the basics. Let the Battlemasters attend to their own lofts in the sky. To seek to join them would be foolhardy."

Withdrawing the sword from the target, Seiryuu sheathed the blade, and knelt down before suddenly rising again, drawing the sword and attacking at the same moment.

"... Sloppy. The tatami is only halfway cut."

[Odaiba, Inside Ageru Lands (Hatchi)]

The two of them, the Menti and the merchant, road side by side drinking their tea.

“How much further do you think?”  Hatchi asked her companion.  Even with the tea (which she had had far too much of in the past few days) the weariness of the road was starting to soak into her bones.  The evening chill didn’t help.

IC: Ageru Tamachan (Odaiba, Ageru Holds)

"I think I can see a good place from here" Tama replied, and pointed further down the road. The Land of the Ageru was reaching its end, Tama recognized the lay of the land.

"Not too far from here I think there's an unused grass plain we can stop at"

IC: Higashi

"Hey, Eiyu girl!"

If Hanabe were to glance to the left, she would notice a bizarre-looking Hogo guardswoman, scratched iris blue armour streaked with green paint, jogging up to her side.

"How's things shaking?"

IC:

"...?"

Hanabe tilted her head slightly, trying to process what this Hogo was talking about.

"We just finished a fight, that is about it."

IC: Higashi

"Yeah I know, it was pretty sweet," was the grinned reply. "Anyway, just wondering if ya got any plans now?"

IC:

"It was a jailbreak. How was that sweet?"

IC: Higashi

"Not a big fan of fighting huh?"

[sado, Aristocratic Quarter (Yukie)]

Sore and exhausted, the plagori warrior returned to his private apartment.  He glanced at the dashi attendant, Suri, who he noticed had the good control not to react to the way he smelled.  Running headlong through the sewers hadn’t exactly improved his odor.

“Your honorable mother is currently engaged in a visit with the Hogo Clan,” she said, in reaction to his questioning look.  Suri had been his personal servant for several years, and she knew his mannerisms well enough to answer his questions before he asked them.  “She requests you come see her when she returns.”

“Have this cleaned and repaired,” he said, handing the coat he had found in the street to her.   It had taken him nearly an hour of looking back in the maze of streets where he had first encountered the mess he had found himself in to retrieve it.  “I will draw my bath myself.”

Suri knew him well enough not to argue.

***

Yukie had started renting a private bath soon after he had come to train on Sado.  It had been a steady strain on the spare allowance he got from his mother.  Most of the time, he had learned to ignore the ways that his body felt like ill fitting armor, or at least hide the way he felt, but he could not do it with the eyes of any others on him.

And there was the fact that, of course, he could not go to the baths reserved for the first sons, no matter what people called him.

Soaking in the scented water (yuzu this time, he noticed) Yukie stared up at the ceiling.  His muscles would still be stiff, in the morning. He would need to go through practice exercises.  And after that, what?  Arsix’s refusal to tell him anything in the alley still pressed upon his mind.  She knew something, something about the Rora’s killer.  And he had no doubt that she (and Jasik probably) were keeping it from the current Empresses hands.  He understood why they wanted to, with their mother’s coffin still warm.  But there was so much at stake here, so many lives on the precipice of...something.  If not war, something.

Something that he couldn’t afford to let lie.

[Oki, Plangori Compound (Akiyo)]

“Nothing interesting, I’m afraid,”  Akiyo replied, delicately placing a flake of the herbed fish in her mouth.  “This clan requires quite a bit of paperwork to be run, and it all comes back to me.  I’ve been writing a lot of letters lately too.  News travels slowly back to this island.  Tell me--” she looked up at Kulrik curiously, “--can you tell me anything of the capital?”

The gelatinous goo jiggled in a not-exactly inviting way.

[Odaiba, Inside Ageru Lands (Hatchi)]

"Good," Hatchi said in acknowledgement.  She checked the position of the few stars that were out－they were indeed close to the usual route they took.   Except instead of skirting the huge tracts of rich farmland, they had gone straight through.  Hatchi estimated they had saved at least a day and a half of travel.  She motioned to the zrupgar guard.　

"Give the word to prepare for a halt," she said.  The guard nodded once and then began making her way stately through the caravan.  

She turned back to Tama.   "I fear we must part soon.  I must tend to my duties as head of this caravan, and I would not want to keep you from seeing your family."

She smiled then, genuinely.  "May the land make a pleasant path beneath your feet.    This was certainly an interesting conversation.  I hope we can meet again in less harrying circumstances."

IC:

Kulrik stared at gelatinous goo for a moment, bewitched by the eery jiggling and wondering how such a dish had become a delicacy here and in the rest of the Empire. He looked back up at Akiyo while moving his utensils to add a small piece of the goo to his plate. He wouldn't want to be a rude guest, after all. 

"Ah, well, the capital is mostly the same as it's always been, as I'm sure you must remember from your own days while training in your Discipline. The city-island is one big jewel mean't to showcase the Umbralines' wealth and power, and remind the rest of the Empire who's in charge. Not that we'd ever forget, of course " he added with a note of sarcasm.

No male could ever forget his place in society, not even a First Son. He started moving his thumb unconsciously against the ring on his finger, turning the metal band around and around. 

"Everyone is on edge there, more than usual anyways. There used to be a time I could sneak around with anyone I pleased but now the guards will arrest anyone they think might start a mob. Of which there have been few. Overall, this business of regicide, the expedition to Mata-Nui and the Dastana declaring their independence have made the prospect living in the capital really unfavourable. Sado can keep their politics.

Kulrik took a bite of the goo and nearly froze as it made its way through his gullet. It quivered and tumbled the whole way down. He swallowed again to get rid of the bizarre and unsettling feeling.

"Speaking of sneaking around with someone... you wouldn't happen to have any free time on your hands, would you?" the Vilda First Son asked with a wolfish smile as all thoughts of the food at the table disappeared and his eyes focused on his quite attractive host. 

IC:

"Shuuan, deep down I'd love to watch all of the Empire's pretentious systems and castes and religion tumble over in flame," Jiyu said with a slight scowl, rubbing his wrists, "However, I have obligations to my Clan- And I've come to realize that the only way to truly change things is to remove prejudice and conflict from within my Clan. Maybe then, when we try to advise this pile of dung Empire, we wont breed internal conflicts such as, well, whatever's going on right now."

IC: Yumiwa Umbraline

Moonlight filtered through the thin curtains into my solar and cast silver in stripes and swaying patterns on every surface. I stood in the shadows of a corner and stalked the statue gleaming at the far wall, eying it intently and weaving through the furniture slowly. 

The fine-hewn wooden sculpture neither moved nor spoke but it taunted to me all the same. My pace quickened with every other step and I cleared a chaise by leaping over it before finally letting loose and charging at the statue with all the haste my legs could muster. Reaching it, I pounded the palm of my hand on its chest, struck it with my other palm at the neck, then collected myself into a low fighting stance Inokio taught me. 

I loved many things and I had showered that very statue with adoration just the day before, but in that moment, that night, I hated it with every fiber of my being. I channeled all my frustration in a kick, spun around on my foot and nailed it twice again, and settled my center low, then rose to strike it five more times progressively up its chest. Suddenly, I willed an azure knife from my hand and it tore into the statue with brutality as I gutted it, slipping it into the throat of the statue before sliding it down the chest and stopping at the heart. 

My breath was ragged from the exertion and I slumped backwards into the chaise I'd jumped over to admire the work of my emotions. A thin wisp of smoke oozed out of the deep slice I cut and was caught by the moonlight, making it dance like a silver snake before it, too, died.

A single knock at the door heralded my Hogo guard lieutenant who looked directly at me, heedless of anything else, as he addressed me. "Is everything alright, Your Majesty?"

I sighed. "Yes. I... I'm fine. Thank you."

"As you say." He hesitated, glancing at the charred remains of the statue without speaking of it, then said, "It's late, Ma'am. I recommend rest to regain your strength." 

"Strength." I echoed vapidly, turned back to the statue, then got up. "What do you think, was she strong?" I asked, but only heard a stammering in response. "I'm beginning to think not." The corner of my mouth twitched as I reached out to caress the statue's lovely face before clenching my fist. The statue shuddered and then splintered, fracturing down the seams and then the grain into a dozen pieces, and with a small gesture I shunted the ugly remains of my mother's likeness out the window. 

I watched it fall for a moment before sauntering past to the speechless lieutenant. 

Rest in peaces, mother. It's because of you that I cannot. 

"Rest."

[Odaiba, Inside Ageru Lands (Hatchi)]

"Good," Hatchi said in acknowledgement.  She checked the position of the few stars that were out－they were indeed close to the usual route they took.   Except instead of skirting the huge tracts of rich farmland, they had gone straight through.  Hatchi estimated they had saved at least a day and a half of travel.  She motioned to the zrupgar guard.　

"Give the word to prepare for a halt," she said.  The guard nodded once and then began making her way stately through the caravan.  

She turned back to Tama.   "I fear we must part soon.  I must tend to my duties as head of this caravan, and I would not want to keep you from seeing your family."

She smiled then, genuinely.  "May the land make a pleasant path beneath your feet.    This was certainly an interesting conversation.  I hope we can meet again in less harrying circumstances."

IC: Ageru Tamachan (Odaiba, Ageru Lands)

"The same to you," Tama said, in a voice a little bit more audible than mere muttering. She had stopped herself from just mumbling something incoherent yet again out of habit.

Sarala neighed, almost as if to say something, and Tama knew. Her steed was getting a little tired after a long time out on the road. Tama patted her reassuringly, and let her slow her pace a little bit, to fall back further, away from the head of the caravan.

IC: Higashi

 

"Not a big fan of fighting huh?"

IC:

"Fighting doesn't accomplish anything, in the long run. And it tends to twist those involved."

IC: Yumiwa

As though I either spoke prophesy or inherited a curse, I could not sleep after destroying the statue of my late mother. 

"Rest" that night was me sitting in front of a crackling fire and warm hearth, coiled up under a blanket with an ever-full pot of tea by my side, the herbal contents of which did nothing to dull my anxious brain's edge or the pain it caused. I resigned myself to spend the long night in thought, and I thought of a great many things. Like... 

... Where was my sister? I sent one of my bodyguards to investigate, clandestinely in order to avoid a scandal, but she had found nothing. And Inokio? Where was my chief retainer and what was he doing? Toroshu Tyee had no assistance to provide, saying I knew her First Son better than she ever did.

... Commodore Ayiwah was away with my expedition (how was that going, anyway?) and ambassadress and half the people I knew. Uncle Rayuke was becoming elusive as a Kanohi Dragon, leaving my Justice in the hands of his capable assistant—who, as it happened, had also disappeared.

... And Mom. Mom was dead. Dead in body and dead to me. Gone. 

How did Mom prepare me for the Throne? She sequestered me from outside influences, insulated me to progressive thinking, inundated me with talk of the Three Virtues and greatness and strength, but all that didn't help ready me for the responsibility of ruling. And I ascended too soon. Roras don't get assassinated, they preside and live long enough to be Datsue, abdicate when their time is over, and leave the realm in the hands of heirs tempered to their birthright, then live the remainder of their lives as priestesses of Zuto Nui. Their—hers, mine—bodyguards exist to protect them so that they can follow that exact tradition. 

Order. 

Order had been flipped on its head and tossed in my lap, and I didn't know what to do with it. I wasn't prepared. Not for this mess. Did Mom know what was coming? If she did, she didn't share it with me or her Council. 

I needed insight on my mom and support from my family. And I needed an escape from Sado. I raised my finger imperceptibly and a servant materialized immediately. "Yes, Your Majesty?" she said with a bowed head.

"I want to leave in the morning to see my aunt in Oki for a couple days," I said dryly. 

"As you command, Ma'am," the servant said with a second bow, then vanished as quickly as she appeared. I sighed, slumped in my chair, and sipped my tea. 

IC:

- Vwynolyn; Being Annoying - 

It felt like months passed by, but they hadn't. Vwynolyn sent out a petition in order to be legally recognized how she personally wanted: no prior approval from her clan, no prior approval from anyone but herself and her own boldness as to pen her own request. As a writer she appeared surprisingly well written, detailing precisely what her issue was and what she wanted out of the entire arrangement. Ideally, Vwynolyn merely wished to talk to someone, anyone, with the authority to grant her wish and requests and so she could actually enforce her own gender identification based on the law itself. Fighting people on the subject, literally and verbally, felt like such a chore and perhaps, in her mind, this might give her some more credence in general. If nothing else, maybe it would allow new opportunities to arise and new paths for her to pursue, granted walking about as what essentially passed as a drunken vagabond lost it's appeal a long while ago. 

Right now she was an impatient, agitated, strangely energetic despite the hour, vagabond who looked the guards standing directly outside the doors with a sense of disdain and aggravation. For the most part they seemed uninterested in her, maybe entertained, granted Vwynolyn wasn't actually picking fights with them and was instead attempting to run past them repeatedly to bang on the doors with her own two hands. She succeeded a few times, but multiple blows and being thrown back onto the hard ground made her muscles and body tired and sore. 

Panting heavily, she made a distressed yell, more wanting to draw the attention of someone within. Perhaps not the best thing to do when wanting a favor, but at this point she was to the edge of her patience and couldn't stand waiting any longer. And once more, she threw herself at the door in an attempt to reach past the guards to knock on it with her fists yet another time. 

IC: Guards

The captain of the night watch had had enough of the Dasaka at the doors of the Imperial Residences. She'd not wanted to even bother with it, but she was getting a notice of the interloper's actions whenever she charged the entrance. Every. Single. Time. 

Some say the Palace never sleeps. The captain didn't sleep because that was her job. What was the deal with the person without? Finally, she gave in, tossed the dice down on the table one last time, and left the room without looking at them. (The lieutenant gaped as she walked out, though, so it was probably a pair of tens.)

There was a yell outside. The captain stopped, sighed irritably, then trudged the final few steps to a parapet and leaned out at the person outside. "Stop. Goddess, just... stop." She sounded bored, which she was, and not really in the mood for whatever kind of nuisance this was. "It's four in the morning, just what do you think you're trying to accomplish?" 

IC: 

- Vwynolyn; Local Nuisance - 

After she was thrown back after her most recent attempt, Vwynolyn panted heavily as she continued to sit on the ground this time. Almost picking herself back up, someone poked out. Precisely who it was, she couldn't tell. Or care. At least someone else was talking now, and while the words that came from the Captain of the Guard's mouth were dull, boring and uninteresting the Dasaka on the ground rolled her deep pink hued eyes. 

"Four in the morning? Well so-rr-y." Vwynolyn muttered when she stood back up, disheveled, irritable, likely running on a lot of pent up energy. Her armor was a bit scuffed around her hands, the rest of her not much better for wear, considering she hadn't been the most peaceful person in general. Over the last week, when she sent through the petition, she had yet to actually get into any trouble. 

"I just... I sent a petition okay? And it's been months! I got all the way here, I have nothing better to do, I'm impatient, and these turds wouldn't let me so much as knock." Vwynolyn immediately pointed at the two guards she dubbed as turds, not backing down from that assessment. "So now my butt hurts, my hands hurt, my throat hurts, but I don't care. This is important! And it's been abso-lutely impossible. And one of them smells bad." Eventually she pulled herself up more properly to her full height, not precisely a short individual. 

IC: Guard captain
 
"Oh, a petition, that so?" the night captain crooned. "That's nice. You're not the only one with a petition, but you are the only one knocking your body on my door. Did you think the Rora herself would be up at this hour especially to hear your plea?"

****

IC: Yumiwa

She was. And she was bored and anxious still.

****

She shook her head and chuckled mockingly. "Sorry, buddy, Her Majesty's Courts don't work around the clock, even though the lights are always on." 

IC: 

- Vwynolyn; Probably Yelling - 

"WELL, doesn't that just MEAN I'm the most impassioned for my cause?!" She responded in a tone mixed with frustration and anger, "AND I maybe don't CARE if your... whatever doesn't run all day or what have you, if you aren't gonna be convenient for me why should I be convenient for you?" Vwynolyn continued, pointing now at the Captain, staring back up at her. "But it's not like I have anywhere else to be, anything else to do and, think about this! I've been exceptionally well behaved since I sent that thing in! Except maybe one time, but that's an exception!" Agitated and unhappy with the response she was receiving she simply continued yelling, and frowned heavily at one of the woman's comments. 

"And I'm not your buddy, pal." 

IC: Night captain

"And I'm not your pal, friend, so watch your tone and behavior or you'll wake the pigeons and they'll startle and poop on your shoulder," which wasn't as likely to happen as the captain made it sound. She clicked her tongue. "Mmmm, baaaad juju, shoulder poops."

The guards on the ground snickered imperceptibly. This was the most entertainment they'd seen in weeks. Minus the wooden statue of the late Rora Yusanora that literally fell in chunks from the sky onto the perfectly laid ground in front of them a couple hours back. That was even worse juju, actually. And quite odd.

A custodian was just then finishing with the sweep job, muttering something about royalty and their messes.

"Also, inconvenient. You'd have to do the washing..."

****

IC: Yumiwa

I lifted my finger again and the same servant answered my call. "Yes, Your Majesty?"

"What's that sound?" I asked. My senses had been dialed high thanks to my insomnia-anxiety comorbidity, and anything that wasn't the whisper of silk curtains and crackling logs caught my attention. 

"I will find out, Ma'am."

"Please do. And make it stop, whatever it takes," I said with a dismissive gesture. I could do with less screaming. I had enough of that happening in my head already.

IC: 

- Vwynolyn; Throwing a Tantrum - 

"Pigeon refuse? That's it? That's all you got?" Vwynolyn almost wished there was a bird within grabbing distance, because at this point she'd make a point of trying to throw one at the Captain at this rate of how things were going for her. "You act like I'd even care about that at this point! But whatever about that, I don't really care. I'll stay here as long it takes. Not like I give a flying ###### about my honor, about clan Fursic's honor, about your honor, their honor -- you can all ingest a cactus for all I care. I have something important! That I've waited, and waited, and waited, and waited on. And, at LEAST I only assaulted the door," Vwynolyn pointed at the rather scuffed surface from successful runs. "But I don't care about what you have to say, there's nowhere for me to even go off to so I may as well sit right here and LOUDLY wait." To make a point of it she simply fell onto her rear on the hard ground, visibly wincing, but doing it in such a manner to get her point across. 

Unhappily, the effeminate Dasaka crossed her arms over her chest, glaring veritable daggers at the Captain who proved of less help than a burned sack of feces. Which, in retrospect, she wished she had to throw at the guards who were all more in her way than she wanted. Then again, that would likely be some crime on par with near treason since it'd be fairly easy to claim she intended to set the building ablaze. 

"And I'm not your friend, amigo." She muttered under her breath. 

IC: Night captain

"Well, that and a night in cuffs, but, like, whatever," she muttered to herself. Her duty as manager-on-duty fulfilled, the captain spun on her heels and left the Menti at the door with one final called out insult.

"And I'm not your amigo, guy."

IC: 

- Vwynolyn; Sleep Deprived Rager - 

She expected to hear about cuffs sooner or later, though at the same time she found herself not terribly caring on that front. But when the last comment came through and hit her ears, she stood back up incredibly quickly, fists clenched and teeth barred. "What did you just call me, you walking tin can?"  Anger clear in her tone, her eyes narrowed and before she could come to any sensible form of "maybe this is a bad idea," the disenfranchised Dasaka attempted to charge the door yet again. She couldn't reach the captain from where she was, but if she could, or had a forethought to use a weapon, she would have gone directly for that woman's throat for that comment that set her off. 

This charge, unlike the others, was filled with a renewed sense of strength born form pure, unadulterated anger. While she wasn't using powers, or weapons, if the guards chose to impede her this time she was going to fight them. Likely with a fist swinging to one of their faces before being overpowered, granted she wasn't quite in the most stable spot in her life: she hadn't slept for two days, she'd made a habit of drinking, and she wasn't thinking as clearly as someone trained like her ought to. 

But as far as angry six foot tall creatures went, Vwynolyn was more than ready to bite, scratch, kick and scream to try and claw off the captain's face, despite this captain was out of her reach and there were two other guards in her way. Which only meant the object of her anger would be shifted to them, instead, in the heat of this impassioned door assault. 

IC: Night captain, servants et al.

The Imperial Residences were fueled by the virtue of Order above the others, and, with a few of the more privileged exceptions, bureaucracy was efficient and uncluttered. Everyone had a place and purpose, and when the gears were set to motion—say, by an irritated empress' merest whim—they moved with fluid purpose.

The servant took her majesty's want, mentally etched it into a crystal and passed it to the junior chamberlain on shift, who then handed the message to the courier who used her intimate knowledge of servant passageways to swiftly move unfettered down several levels. From there, the crystal message was taken by a clerical guard, bored of her wits like the others on her shift. She read the crystal, mentally reached out to the lieutenants she was bonded to, and checked in with each—.:Is there a noisy nuisance in your sector? No. No. No. Yes?:.—before dispatching a second guard with the crystal to the sector with an affirmative. The lieutenant there, the same who gawked at the wicked sick die rolls her captain made earlier, received the crystal and just in time for her captain to walk in.

She handed the crystal to the captain. "This came from above."

The captain then read the message and rolled her eyes faaaar more dramatically than was professional. "The Rora sent this," she said, flat as a board and dense as marble. "The. Rora."

The lieutenant merely blinked.

The captain sighed deeply again and trudged back to the parapet, only to discover the petitioning Menti very much put in her place and restrained by the two guards at the door. They'd apparently just finished the arrest and turned to their captain's sour face for directions from there. Their captain's words surprised everyone there—the guards, the Menti, the custodian who was still yammering about empresses from the past—to varying degrees.

"I can't ###### believe I'm saying this. Her Imperial Majesty the Rora wants to know what it will take to, in her words, 'make it stop.' She means you. Congratulations, Menti, with your criiiiies for atteeeeention you've apparently failed to awaken the pigeons—" she pointed at the rafters for effect "—but succeeded in getting on the empress' nerves. Good job." 

And if she decides to poop on you, that carries more than just bad juju, she considered, but didn't say. She had some restraint, at least. 

IC: 

- Vwynolyn; Brute Force Prevails - 

As she was detained and wrestling with the guards, she shot daggers in her eyes back up to the reappearance of the captain. While her anger only managed to flare back up at the sight of the woman who slighted her in such an offensive manner, at least from her perspective, the woman's words caught Vwynolyn off guard and quite clearly. She stopped wrestling and stared up with a smile starting to form on her lips, lifting up her chest a bit as was allowed with her arms restrained. 

"So I win?" She called up, not really caring if this was the Empress who apparently she annoyed. All she knew was that she was going to get the audience she wanted. Perhaps a worse fate awaited her, but at least she was going to be allowed to speak to someone who held the power to actually put into action what she wrote into a petition around a week ago. 

IC: Night captain

"Mmmmm, nope. Teeeechnically, the question is for me. I have the charge to do whatever it takes to, again, as she said, 'make it stop.' So really, this can go either way. Case in point: You've stopped." She mimed the manacles to make the image clear.

"You can accept your arrest, or, I guess, since I'm reasonable, kind, too beautiful for this, and really just want this to end already like Her Majesty decrees, you can suggest an alternative."

This better be good.

IC: 
 

- Vwynolyn; Oops - 

With that comment Vwynolyn had half a mind to start acting up again and was about to begin when she caught wind of her ability to request an alternative. "Well... instead of tossing me into a cell, where all I'm going to do is play music on the bars, why not just let me have my audience?" She asked, being a bit calmer as she felt there was a chance she might be taken seriously this time. "It'll make it stop, and I'll go away forever. Never see me again, I'll even try to make some terrible boat to cross the sea and probably drown just to get that much farther away." She continued, more dragging in hyperbole at this point, but wanting to try to get that point across. "Won't hear from me making trouble anywhere, won't hear me doing anything, won't ever step foot here again. Gets me out of your hair for eternity! I'd say that's a great, once-in-a-lifetime deal, yeah?" 

IC: Night captain

"An audience with whom, exactly?" the captain ranted. "I told you, the Her Majesty's Courts are closed until after sunup. Nobody with any authority to listen to your petition is awake except the Rora, and that's on your head already. Hah. Nope. Sorry, you got an audience with me, and I'm glad to know it was a disappointing show." She waved her hand nonchalantly, as if to say, take her away and be done with her.

IC: 

- Vwynolyn; Bargaining - 

"C-C'mon! Please! I..." Vwynolyn's head hung down low, her fists clenched in the manacles. If anything she appeared actually defeated, gritting her teeth, eyes focused on the ground with the guards pretty much ready to take her off like their leader commanded. "I'll do anything," she mumbled after a few moments, looking up again. "If... if... at least... ask... ?" Vwynolyn started, trying not to allow herself to cry after such a scene, in front of these people whom she loathed deep down inside. Despite the comments she made earlier, she did possess a sense of pride, despite this entire scene borne from desperation and a weakened psyche from her malnutrition and lack of sleep. 

She couldn't fight back anymore at this point, she couldn't plant herself in place as she'd simply be carried or dragged off. She lacked the actual energy to do much other than, at this point, quietly plead. "You... you don't even know what it's about," she added a moment later, doubting the guards or the captain would actually care what her petition was about, even if they heard it. Barely anyone had a tendency to take her seriously either way, though there were a few who simply assumed correctly with her pronouns due to her more traditionally feminine features, not to mention her voice she spent time trying to get to sound higher. Which it had earlier that night, until she shouted herself practically hoarse. 

IC: Night captain

"You want me to ask Her Majesty if she will hear your petition," the captain said. She'd seen and heard it all in the span of the last few minutes. She was done, so done, with her shift and her gate and her charges and everything. 

Well, the Rora did say she wants to be an empress for the people. Let's test her word now.

"Oh-kay. I'm game. You sit there and be good, and when I come back I'll have either a thumbs up or thumbs down. And really, I'm kind of looking forward to it." Either way, the Menti would be out of her business and she could go back to beating her assistant at dice.

****

IC: Servants, et al.

The whole process went in reverse order. The captain conferred with her lieutenant, who Ideatalked to the clerical guard, who wrote a message on a crystal and dispatched a courier up to the rora's wing, then the crystal went from the assistant chamberlain to the same dutiful servant from the shadows, who read it to Yumiwa.

"A Menti at the gates wants to have a petition heard by you. That will, 'make it stop.'"

The empress, as it happened, was bored. And not tired. Any distraction from the constant worries of her family and Realm was welcomed, and hearing a subject's tiny problem was one such way to catch a break. This nonchalance was not channeled into the reply, however; that sounded more dignified.

The sequence occurred a third time, which will not be repeated.

****

The captain read the second crystal message from the rora and closed her eyes. Like the custodian who swept up splinters earlier, she muttered unprofessional things about royalty's whims, and then wheeled back to the parapet.

"Menti," she growled and stuck out a fist. I can't believe this. She pretended to be a thespian, speaking softly and dramatically. "Her Majesty is... touched by your fervor and passion, and graciously invites you for an audience." Thumbs up. "Four other guards inside will escort you to Her Majesty's presence. And personally, I hope I never see you at my gate again. Goodbye, buddy." 

With that, the captain returned to her table and resumed playing dice, unaware, after the curious events of the night so far, that her lieutenant had doctored the scores slightly. 

IC: 

- Vwynolyn; Knew it All Along (Not Really) - 

Waiting felt almost painful. Yes or no, a part of Vwynolyn felt as if at this point it would not ultimately matter, although she was surprised the Captain even chose to hear her out to any level. And when the woman came back, standing up on the parapet, the menti could do little more than look up and wait to hear what she would have to say. Expecting a no, expecting this all to be a show to placate her for the time being before hauled off to a cell somewhere, when she heard the actual message Vwyn perked up quite a bit. A smile came across her features, and while she might be getting ahead of herself, at least her hours spent harassing the door paid off. 

If she had faculty of her arms and hands she would've flicked a particularly rude gesture towards the Captain when the woman turned her back, namely at the last comment she made, but Vwynolyn was not too keen to continue her shouting match from earlier. Granted, now she actually wanted to retain use of her voice so she could actually plead her case, no matter how much of an actual wreck she appeared at this point. 

Without much else other than the Captain's word to go on, Vwynolyn already tried to get back on her feet. Her muscles burned from the hours she spent throwing herself at the door, from being thrown back and hitting the ground repeatedly; her throat burned from how much yelling she'd done; her pride stung as she knew her eyes were wet; her general demeanor was less of someone who seemed proper and put together and more like someone who could hardly hold themselves together. Scuff marks, scratches and scars were embedded in her armor and person, and her stance was shaky at best at this point, especially with the promise of at least an audience. 

"I... I get to go inside now?" She said the words in such a manner where she could barely believe this was the actual result. Her mind was too much a mess for her to rethink about everything that happened as, at this point, it all blended together in a giant blur of non-importance now. 

IC:

Most Dasaka who were ever born had committed the unspoken heresy of being jealous of the goddesses; their beauty, their wisdom, their power - and their freedom, the greatest wish of all the castes, were all targets of a down-on-her-luck Dasaka at some point in her life. Umbraline Desdemona had a different sort of envy. She longed only for the patience of the divines - the knowledge of how she could make Yumiwa, her opposite in all regards, love her as dearly as Zuto Nui loved her wayward Zataka.

The sisters had been through a very turbulent day together. Hanako was sick with something that the healers insisted was not harmful, only nastily contagious; Inokio forbade them both to go and visit her, yet the girls had united briefly to insist that they would not undertake any lessons until such time as they were allowed to tend to their shared confidante. Faced with the indomitable will of two sisters, yet also under orders from both Yusanora and Rayuke to protect the health of the princesses, the Korae Battlemaster had suggested a compromise - Inokio would tutor Hanako from her sickbed for the duration of her illness, ensuring that she would not be left behind in the prodigious wake of the Umbraline sisters...as long as those sisters performed their own lessons in private, giving the patient time to rest and working together to try while they honed their use of the difficult Mindarm discipline. No doubt Inokio had intended it to be a learning exercise of a different, more improvised sort; a lesson in unity, perhaps, that would do the sisters some good and prepare them for the day they would run the Empire together.

tInstead, Yumi and Desde were fighting like stray dogs. The source of their ire?

Pear halves.

"You got to cut the halves!" Des complained, deep blue eyes smoldering as she matched Yumiwa's pout with an absolutely precocious effort of her own. She was just reaching adolescence, yet so far she had only been through a growth spurt or two; her tall, willowy figure was still almost completely swallowed by the blanket cocoon she had made herself the epicenter of. Only her delicate face and stuck out bottom lip jutted out from her makeshift layers of shawls, glaring at Yumi reproachfully. "You get to cut, I get to choose. That's how it works."

Yumi scowled. Her sister was older than her, and was already growing up to be the kind of beauty that Des knew would be envied even in the hearts of the Vilda. It was very hard for her face to make a look that wasn't somehow attractive, but the complete look of disdain that she held for Desdemona's rule on fruit sharing was up to the challenge.

"That's never been how it works. They bring our food pre-sliced."

"Well, but-"

"Nuh uh. Quiet, sticky."

"You're sticky!"

Desdemona, glowering, let out a shriek of frustration that was muffled by the blankets. Simultaneously, a cup of juice that was resting precariously on the silver tray Rayuke had brought for them. Perhaps if it had not been so close to the edge of the platter, nothing would have been amiss, but whoever had given Rayuke the tray hadn't been very careful with the cups. Des' psionic outburst had been enough to send the glass teetering over, sending citrus liquid splashing all over Yumiwa's feet and the crystal armor on her calves. There were stains at the very fringes of her red garment. There was such a sudden hush in the room that Des was scared to break it. Instead, she reached out with her mind.

.:Yumi--:.

"Don't."

The word was spoken aloud. Yumi hated feeling like she couldn't defend her mind from her sister.

"Don't..." she trailed off. "Worry about it."

Desde's dark eyes widened in shock, but Yumiwa was concentrating hard on something.

"You want the bigger pear, Desde? Fine." Yumiwa sauntered over to the bed and plopped down, careful to put her feet on the ground to prevent any juice from dripping onto her comforter. "We'll make it an exercise. We'll each reach out for a half. The first one who can drag theirs over to their side of the room first without dropping it can have the big half."

The younger princess blinked. It was unlike Yumiwa to do anything that could even be construed as playing a game without Hanako as an impartial referee, but...to say so aloud was almost begging for Yumi to rescind her challenge. 

Or...maybe not. The Chojo had true fire in her eyes, a look she'd seen Mother wear in court sometimes when she needed to be assertive in dealing with the glib, callow Dastana Yomiken or defend herself against the sneers of Fursic Nera. It was a look that the Umbralines had been blessed with since the days Zuto Nui had first blessed their bloodline.

"Okay." Desdemona straightened her back slightly to look more regal beside her sister, and allowed the first hints of a competitive grin to grace her face. "You're totally on."

"You bet I am. Just remember that when you're eating that teeny little half of pear--"

"--as if!--"

"--maybe I'll let you have a little bite out of the big half if you promise not to cry--"

"--please, I saw you sniffle when the juice spilled on--"

"Aaaaargh!" both sisters exclaimed in unison. "You're such an ugly Brakas!"

Another hushed silence fell on the princess' training room. Yumiwa was staring at her sister with an ashen face...before a giggle slipped out of her mouth, and a lush smile spread on the Chojo's face. Des cracked a wider grin. The pears were momentarily forgotten; each sister's display of humor only made it more impossible to get words out than it had been before, and each little hiccup sent the other princess into greater hysterics.

It was Inokio that killed the moment.

The Battlemaster, trailed by Rayuke and half a dozen guards, opened the door to the training room suddenly, and the warrior's keen eyes took everything in at a glance as Yumiwa and Desdemona tried helplessly to straighten up and act casual. If they had thought that their sudden return to stoicism was fooling the tutor, they were sorely mistaken - but Inokio was eyeing one very particular item, still rolling around on the ground. The way he lifted the crystal goblet and righted it on the platter with a single thought was performed with the same ease as a flick of the wrist in a game of catch - the same ease both sisters fervently dreamed of wielding one day. Inokio's eyes fell on the bed, across the room from the cabinet the tray rested on, and with a fidget of his head he gestured back to the cup.

"Who spilled the juice?" he asked.

Both sisters were deathly quiet, focusing on protecting their minds from Inokio's wrath. Des was focusing hard on reinforcing Yumi's own barriers, adding an unbidden layer of protection to her big sister's thoughts. The distraction proved fatal.

She opened her mouth to give a cautious answer--

--and hiccuped loudly.

The jig was up; Yumiwa snorted in an attempt to repress her laughter, which quickly grew into the heinous cackle of a forest witch. Both girls heard the heavy bass of Rayuke's chuckle behind Inokio, and a few of the guards were laughing softly. One, who wore a thin crystal film over her eyes, had let her posture relax in the closest thing to a slouch that decorum would allow, with her arms crossed beside a cane. She was grinning at Desde approvingly.

"I...did," Desde admitted carefully, trying to hold her breath to prevent another hiccup. "I'm sorry, Inokio, I meant to pick it--"

"I'm not going to chastise you, Desdemona," Inokio said, holding up his hands to assure her. "Did it with your mind, did you? A good effort, Princess. Good work. It will come more naturally as you get older, if you have the true gift - which I think you do, just as much as your sister. Keep practicing and you two will be unparalleled one day."

It had been the wrong thing to say, though perhaps he didn't know it. Desdemona had shrunk down slightly again as Yumi had tensed up, and the princess realized that the words had reminded Yumi of her own goal - to be the best. Not to share the spotlight with her willowy, psionically potent sister. 

Suddenly, Des was the enemy within hugging distance once again.

"I came to retrieve Yumiwa," Inokio said, either unaware or unconcerned of the wounds he had helped pick open between the sisters once again. "Her mother is holding court with the Ageru Toroshu this afternoon. She wants the Chojo to see how a good Rora deals with her allies, as well as her rivals. Afterwards, I have permission to bring you to see Hanako. Would you like to come, Desde?"

"Nah. I'll stay and practice." The words were raw in her throat, but a good princess didn't cry in front of others. "Should be easier now that the cup's empty. Tell Hana hi for me, Inokio?"

"Of course, my princess." Inokio bowed low, the image of chivalry, as Yumiwa stood and moved beside him. "I admire your determination. Keep at it; I believe in you."

"Sure. Bye, Inokio. Bye, Yumi."

"Bye." The word was thrown over her shoulder as an afterthought as Inokio escorted the Chojo out of the room, followed by his contingent of Hogo. But Rayuke hung back to give Desdemona a reassuring smile, and blow the little princess down a big familial kiss, before he too disappeared. And the guard with the crystal film didn't even budge. In fact, she sighed in relief, finally allowing herself to slouch against the wall and stretch her feet out, arms uncrossing to rest behind her head.

"That girl," Umbraline Masayoshi observed haughtily, "is  s u c h  a little shitbird."

...

Desdemona's cackle tipped her uncle's assistant off that the insult, perhaps, might not have been suitable for her present company. 

"A what?" she asked incredulously. "What in the name of Zuto Nui is a shitbi--"

"Sssssh," Masayoshi hurriedly hushed the princess. "Sssh. I'm not going to let Lord Rayuke hear that I taught his niece about--"

--Des, still young and impressionable, was still incapable of determining a quick lie at that age--

"--the legend of the shitbird."

That piqued Desdemona's interest even more. Masayoshi was the coolest person that the young Dasakan princess had ever known. A phenom in the yards by the time she was Yumi's age, she had been blinded in a training accident that had embittered her and left her incapable of serving as a Menti in most positions. Unsatisfied and passionate, she had taken a job as Lord Rayuke's assistant, and quickly proven to be the best servant that the office of Imperial Justice had been graced with in centuries. On one occasion, when Mother and Yumi were away and Rayuke needed to conduct his business, he had sent Masayoshi to watch his beloved younger niece. In those days, Masa had been fresh off her accident and still surly around royalty; she had walked into Desdemona's room with a disinterested slouch much like the one she was propped up in now, and seemed anything but interested in being stuck inside babysitting some thin, dorky Menti who was unable to leave the thoughts of those around her alone. Somehow, through good fortune (or black magic) that Des had never before been privy to, the older Menti had taken a shine to her. Older than Hana, younger than Inokio, she had adopted a sort of makeshift role of confidante and mentor for a girl who had never had a full-time claim to someone who could be called either. She would often find the time to read Desde stories when she had grown too old for Mother to do so herself, she would entertain the girl with techniques and stories from the Yards, and sometimes, when she was particularly drunk and Des was in need of more sober guardianship, she would even bring up her pet cat up for the lonely girl to play with.

The age gap between them meant that, obviously, Des couldn't be privy to everything that went on in the assistant's life - she had no idea of any other friends or connections that Masa had, and knew it was selfish of her to say with any certainty that the Menti was hers. But...that's what she was.

She was all Desde's. It was a distinction that the young, fiery Menti shared only with the tower they stood in.

"There's...a legend about the sh--"

"Ssssssssssh," Masa finished, raising a conspiratorial finger to her lips. "Of course there is. But you're not supposed to say its name aloud. And if you can be a good girl and stay quiet through the whole story, maybe I can tell you why."

Desde searched Masayoshi's eyes for a few seconds and then nodded in agreement, like they had both agreed to some sort of secret coup against the other adults.

"O-kay. Yeah, sure. Now get over here and tell me about the sh-"

"SSSSSSSSSH."

Masayoshi, glaring strictly through her visor at the young princess, walked over and plopped down on the bed in the makeshift training room, drawing the girl towards her in a loose, affectionate hug as she kicked back on the bed irreverently. Des, for her part, drew herself deeper into the cocoon and looked up. Her dark eyes rolled back to try and watch Masa's face as the story was told.

"So, the legend begins a long, long time ago, when a brave little angel--"

"--Desdemona?--" the princess butted in, wondering excitedly whether she had somehow yet to hear a story about her favorite Valkyr of legend. 

"--Uh, sure. When a brave little angel named Desdemona wandered far from home, deep into a place of darkness..."

...

Desdemona woke up shivering.

That's weird. 

Kozu wasn't much different from Sado in terms of climate; if anything, the place was a little warmer than Sado, with its cold crystal walls stretching as far as the eye could see in every direction. Yet somehow, in the throes of sleep last night, the Imperial Chojo had felt like her entire body was on fire, unable to find comfort when everything around her felt so arid. Perhaps that was just psychological, because she was shivering for a certainty...but she didn't feel cold. So maybe it was hot after all. Or maybe it wasn't that, either. She had always been sickly. Maybe she'd picked up a fever over the voyage from Sado that had just now broken overnight. It would certainly explain the sheen of sweat that glistened on her body. 

She had left her favorite blanket on Sado. It was one of her trademarks, and obviously couldn't be brought on a clandestine mission like this one...but she still missed it. It was a present from her father, the main who had given birth to her and Yumi, the man their mother had loved so passionately from the days of her youth. Yumi had known him a little bit better than Des did, but not by much - and after his loss, Mother had never, ever talked about him. That was a pain she'd held in her heart up until the moment that an assassin had blown it straight out of her chest. All that remained of their parents were memories...and, in Des' case, a beautiful indigo blanket. Both were growing more distant by the day, replaced respectively by questions and starchy inn sheets. 

Des clutched them both to her bare chest, and focused on her deep breathing. 

She hadn't discovered anything in the first shanty town she had visited, so she had marched alone and determined to one that was slightly more inland. This little fishing inlet was closer to the Fursic estates, but was more inconveniently placed for trade and rarely received boats from Sado. It was worth a shot, though; if she could form concentric circles, slowly moving inland towards the center of Kozu, she would eventually find the people - or answers - she was seeking somewhere. It was the closest thing to a gameplan she had.

Sighing, the incognito Chojo drew herself out of bed and padded over to a washbasin, doing what she could to wash any signs of distress away from her slender body before she went out and about into suspicious territory. She had brought some old garments of Yumi's - red was always her color - but she knew that there was more to disguising herself than just the physical. Desdemona was an anomaly among Menti, a power the likes of which had not been seen in generations, perhaps in recorded history...and that was seldom something she could disguise from the people around her. 

But it was also that power, that singularity among her family, that meant she had to do this.

Walking back from the washbasin with the pleasant tingling of warm water on her skin, Desdemona bent down to begin getting dressed when her heart and mind ground to a halt at once. She had been letting her mind wander - or, perhaps, it had been wandering while she slept - and she felt her own presence brush psionic elbows with something vaguely familiar.

Sinister.

Savage.

She had felt a tell like that once before, when the Fursic delegation had arrived at the party where Umbraline Yusanora, may she sing with Zuto Nui, had met her name.

Sheika...

Her mother's killer was in the area.

The princess, who had fancied herself a hunter, was most likely being hunted.

-Tyler

IC: 

- Vwynolyn; Knew it All Along (Not Really) - 

 

"I... I get to go inside now?" She said the words in such a manner where she could barely believe this was the actual result. Her mind was too much a mess for her to rethink about everything that happened as, at this point, it all blended together in a giant blur of non-importance now. 

As if in answer, the doors opened enough to admit her and revealed four Clan Hogo guards standing in a square. Vwyn would get her petition heard after all.

At the rora's leisure, anyway.

****

IC: Yumiwa Umbraline

Sending messages was almost instantaneous; summoning subjects was a little slower. They actually had to walk, and they'd delay in order to train the subject on basic etiquette for addressing me. That gave me time to lounge around a bit more, sulk at the fire, drink a strong tea, and have a set of jewels brought to adorn my face and make me look regal and bright despite the hour. 

Well, actually, they were to cover the shadows under my eyes, but the tiara was for my own vanity.

I took my junior chamberlain's advice and chose one of the drawing rooms for the reception, noting that my hearth room was too intimate for a matter of state, even a small one. Time passed slowly and the fire had to be stoked a couple times before it was time to see the petitioning Menti. Two of my personal retainers (the last two I had on Sado at that point) flanked me as I flitted from one side of the vast apartment to the other.

The drawing room was well lit, and crystal lamps flooded white and yellow light everywhere. Only the large open windows that emptied into the patio and open sky beyond tipped anyone off that it was, in fact, still dark out, otherwise it was easy to forget fast hadn't even been broken yet. An incense burner smouldered on the table and I figured it was purposefully potent; perhaps my subject was not overly pleasant to smell. She, or he, hadn't arrived yet, but there was a docket on table I picked at it with curiosity as I sat down on the chaise beside it. 

I'd barely had time to read the petitioner's name before she was escorted into my presence. I remained seated, but looked up and smiled stiffly to welcome her. 

"Your Majesty, I admit Fursic Vwynolyn to your presence," a servant said in introduction before bowing out of sight. It was now only myself, Vwynolyn, and my two elite retainers in the room. 

I set the docket aside and folded my hands on my crossed legs. "Well, Vwynolyn, I'll say you've certainly made quite a fuss to be seen this morning," I casually remarked. "I understand you have lodged a petition to the Crown."

IC: 

- Vwynolyn; Realizing She Smells - 

When admitted by the four guards, the walk felt a lot longer than it ought to for someone like Vwyn. Namely, with how sore she felt and how out of it she'd been, the tall Dasaka nearly tripped and fell over a couple times due to a lack of paying attention to the floor and her own feet. Part of her lack of attention rested with her thoughts; trying to still comprehend what seemed so surreal. They let her in? She had not, honestly, expected it. Vwynolyn also did not expect it to be the current Rora to see her on a matter such as this, and while she moved and attempted to keep pace, she began to realize how bad of shape she looked. 

Her armor was scuffed and dirtied, with many chips and scratches along it from various fights over the time it took her to eventually get here. Most of the time she had her own inability to hold her temper to blame; people found it entertaining to work her up until she eventually lunged at someone. Most of her physical scars, under the armor, came from such exchanges and she did not always walk away from them as a victor. The tired, dark rings under her eyes bespoke a practically nonexistent sleeping schedule. Out of the last week, since she sent in her petition and even a few days before, she could barely rest. Dreams were fraught with nightmares, or too much excitement over the petition she sent in, or dread over it. 

Granted, before she appeared in front of the doors she'd been quite far along on the "probably drunk" scale, after so much wasted energy and shouting, and the hours that passed, she seemed to be more level headed on that front. Of course, dehydrated and not having eaten for the last two days took their own tolls on her mind and thoughts, but at least she did have the presence of mind to be quite aware of how bad her outward condition was, not to mention her mind. All she could hope was that she wouldn't botch speaking and that the woman she was to talk with would be too far away from her to take any offense to her presentation. It wasn't like she carried around a nicer set of clothes, granted the ones she had in the past were for males and she tossed them into a fire sometime ago. 

As she was admitted into the drawing room, Vwynolyn had to squint initially and shield her eyes a bit from the light. Outside it'd been quite dark, so inside with the light and the pungent aroma came off a bit disorienting for the Dasaka who needed to hold onto something in front of her to simply remain standing at this point. 

Eventually she made out the Empress, sitting across the way and Vwynolyn's hand dropped and she blinked a few times to try and get her eyes to adjust. 

"I... Y-Yes, I have... lodged a petition and, er... well, yes... kinda... there was a door, you see," Vwynloyn felt her cheeks flare up in a moment of embarrassment, one hand gesturing to the door of the room as if it were an example. That had quickly shot back to the chair as the quick movement almost knocked her off balance, the room swimming a bit for her though she was trying to keep herself lucid and aware. Normally she'd take a seat, but given present company, she felt it might be an offense to do so. 

IC: Yumiwa

My brows arched slightly in anticipation. Having not been able to read the docket on Vwynolyn's petition I had nothing to go on. She would have to voice her petition to me directly. 

Funnily enough, even this was more entertaining than the hoooours I'd spent in sulking silence earlier. 

IC: 

- Vwynolyn; A Mess - 

"I..." Vwynolyn paused, the silence a little uncomfortable for her, though after a moment she felt as if it might be important to explain what her petition was. Initially she half expected it to have been read at this point, though she supposed with her sudden appearance and belligerent attitude that, perhaps, it had not. "My... um, my petition... is, it's um..." Vwynolyn found herself pausing often to find the next word to say, fingers resting now on the chair as she stood in the room, eyes shifting down to look at the table to make it a little easier, "it's about... I uh, w-well, see I... I mean, you... can probably tell since, you know, while... I'm not really in good shape or... trying much with my voice since... since I sorta hurt my throat, and well, I lack a lot of..." Her hand waved in the air for a moment as she thought of a delicate way to put it, "y'know... some... things people would see to assume immediately... my, er... gender?" Vwynolyn paused, knowing that wasn't the most artistic approach to her words had she would have liked. And saying it aloud, at least in such a manner to explain her position, was a fairly new thing for her to do. 

"It's... I was, I was born as... er, as a boy and... I uh, but I'm not... I mean... it's... it's difficult to really explain," Vwynolyn mumbled, rubbing the back of her neck shyly. "But... but I wanted... to... to have my gender -- a woman -- legally... recognized at least. At least insofar as... well, I mean... I figured... it might help gain credence with... it and everything, and while it probably won't stop... er, well, people being rude, but... I felt... it might help to... well if it's recognized, at least, maybe... I could actually go forward. Like, find opportunities... and such rather than, uh... well... kinda... eventually hitting rock bottom. Which I mean... I'm probably at, since getting stabbed in a tavern wasn't exactly an alien concept to me. And I kinda... wailed on your door, and... everything." Her tone was a bit quieter, the Dasaka starting to actually feel some sense of shame for her earlier behavior, while also trying to find the language she wanted and settling for less than perfect statements. 

"I... c... c-can I sit down?" She asked after a moment, hands still gripping onto the back of a chair left at the table, though it was pretty clear she was feeling a bit lightheaded and anxious. 

IC: Yumiwa Umbraline

"Yes, please, sit."

So, this was the Fursic's other secret (besides how Kuno managed to keep his wits in a world of girls far beyond his league). I'd heard a little about Vwynolyn's case, but only the rumours spoken by my own informants, and never by name. It was just a curiosity, a Fursic son who wasn't a son, but there it was literally in front of me, in a voice that betrayed its identity. 

I honestly didn't know much about the matter. All sorts of ideas popped into my head: Was this a true son trying to fight the fetters slapped on his wrists because of what he was born as? Or was this a daughter, scorned for her body and mind, an outlying phenomenon against the virtue of Order? Or was this all a trick, a Fursic ploy taken to the extreme? I knew too little, and even the docket wouldn't have information to help. This matter required a more deft approach to investigation.

My eyes bore into Vwynolyn's like flechettes, then softened. "Your clan doesn't approve of you, do they?" I asked, knowing the answer full well but needing Vwynolyn to divulge anyway.

IC:

- Vwynolyn; Somewhat Reasonable - 

When she was granted permission to sit down, Vwynolyn quickly pulled out the chair and all but collapsed into the seat. Panting a little, she pressed her hands up into her face, trying to keep herself focused before letting them fall onto the table. Leaning down a bit, the Dasaka was tired, slouching forward, using one hand to hold up her head after a moment. It was lucky she parsed the question, maybe a little slower than normal, but nodded her head after a time. 

"No. They don't. For... emphasis on that, I... haven't heard from them, nor they me, in... in a long while now," she lifted her head a little after a moment, hand falling forward onto the table without her head keeping it locked in the upright position. "I... I admit I don't try to, uh... make myself available for them and... I actively avoid... them, since... well if they were ever looking for me, I doubt it's for a nice dinner." Her eyes shifted down towards the table again, trying to reign in any impatience or any desire to rant, taking a few deeper breaths to keep her nerves a bit on the calmer side.