video — un: vast & furious.

[valeas]

( Last Emilia di Carlo was seen, she rode a thestral into the dark of night, with flowers burning in her hair and fury blazing in her eyes. Tonight, she looks somber and composed, her resolve no less steely for it. She sits at her desk, hair half braided into a coronet and the other half down in loose waves.

She's dressed practically, unlike when they're conforming to the city's fashions. )

I've gathered some donations from the nobility.

( Influence with the gentry (and their connections) helps, as does rich guilt. Emilia still takes great issue with everyone else being left to fend for themselves during the siege, but she decided to channel that anger into something productive. People need resources, not the consequences of her temper.

She'll need remember to do so on behalf of Vannozza. The siege doesn't, unfortunately, put an end to why they're here. )

I invite anyone that would like to help with its distribution to join me. Furthermore —

( Her brow furrows at the sudden commotion outside. The desk is close enough to the balcony that anyone who's decided to listen in is privy, as well. Much like the chimney debacle, really, except these are no protesters. No, these are two gentlemen suitors. And they bring ... poetry?

It would seem harrowing experiences turn already insensible men into impulsive brutes. Impulsivity further prompted by the fact Emilia, catch of the season, has yet to accept any offer. She's betrothed to someone else, in truth. Though at the moment, she'd like to eschew the presence of any and all men.

Forever.

The clearing of a throat: "Shall I compare thee to a summer's day — "
"Look around, you complete and utter toadstool. It is far from summer, and you cannot propose when I intend to do so."
"The lady will not marry you. I am the one she favors — "
"No, I shall be her heart's truest desire in the end."
"Dear man, you know little of desire, if all rumors prove true."
"You besmirch my character! There is only one way to solve this — "
"Yes. Y e s - !"
"We duel at dawn!"

Emilia closes her eyes.

Draws in a deep breath. Prays to the goddess of strength and reasoning: may she keep a moon daughter from committing any violence this evening. )

You'll excuse me.

( Before she ends the transmission, a third unaffiliated voice can be heard, wailing in the distance, "I'm so alone." )



( ooc: this post is for their network only, but the commotion outside is, of course, free game for anyone to catch wind of.
this post is open all month. there's no such thing as too late.)

Comments

audio. threadjack away. :)

[inferus]

( Wrath does not like seeing his betrothed-to-be serenaded and fought over as if she is an object to be won. A well of possessiveness slides up in him though he certainly is aware Emilia has not chosen a relationship with him either (and she will always have that freedom of choice). He is respectful of said current choice, which means not yelling over her feelings in a courtyard. What even are mortals. He is on his way to view this in person, but first: )

We should allow them their duel.

Is it to the death? ( Because if that is how they choose to go out without taking into consideration Emilia's feelings or thoughts at all then they deserve the fate they have chosen. )

[valeas]

( Emilia brings herself to her feet and moves toward the balcony, goddess help these men if they are still out there. )

Is there any other sort of duel?

( She's never been involved in one. But she's read plenty of books, and in books, duels are to the death always. In books and in practice, too, a woman is often blamed for the tantrum of a man. A good thing that Emilia is in no possession of a guilt complex. But there's been too much death and destruction. )

[inferus]

( Wrath strides through the courtyard with frustration in his stance. He gives off a certain predatory, frightening vibe especially at present that has many people along the way give him a wide birth as they stare while he passes them by. )

The rules can be set in whichever way they like so long as they each wield a similar weapon. First blood, a severe wound preventing one participant from continuing, or death.

( He hears the tone of her voice and knows her well enough to know she does not want this. Not that they have asked. ) I see they've yet to specify.

[valeas]

Specificity did not seem to be a priority, no.

( There's an impressive bite to her words, and she swears the air she's breathing is fire. And beneath it, somewhere she does not want to acknowledge, is the sting of humiliation. She'd had other plans for tonight, much more productive ones at that. )

I can handle this.

( Emilia is not in need of a protector. If she can't handle two bumbling and presumptive men, how will she handle demon subjects? )

[inferus]

( Wrath halts in his walk despite the anger urging his feet to continue its path. He is, as always, in control of his own emotions, and he can tell she wishes to handle this on her own. It is not as if he ever doubted she could. She simply should not have had to.

She did not ask for this, and neither of these mortals take into consideration her feelings, her wants, how their actions may affect her. And he reads more than anger in her tone of voice. Perhaps he simply knows her so well. He takes in a careful, controlled breath and then releases it again before he speaks: )

You can.

( It is quiet acknowledgement before he finds a shadow to slip into. A moment later, he transvenios to her room to wait and listen. He does quite enjoy her sharp tongue, and this time, it will be used to eviscerate mortals who could not be more deserving of it. )

[valeas]

( She does not keep him waiting long.

Of course, when she steps into the room, some of her anger banked, she remembers the last interaction they had — one that could properly constitute as such — was at the tower. The sight of him with wings hasn't left her mind, nor the memory — a name — burrowed deep within it, aching to surface.

Despite the events that just transpired, or perhaps because of them, Emilia stands a bit taller, for all that her height is not so impressive. )

How long have you been standing there?

[inferus]

( Wrath turns toward her as she enters her room, and he swears the sight of her slams into him: beautiful, head held high, an edge to her gaze. He did, in fact, enjoy the way her temper was appropriately unleashed upon the suitors while maintaining a certain level of poise which was impressive. )

Since we spoke.

( He sees no reason to pretend as if anything else is the case. There's an unnamed tension here between them since the Tower, since the mirrors. He refuses to acknowledge it for fear of what it may lead to- not that a Wicked Prince is ever afraid except it is always different when it comes to her. )

I wanted to witness your anger unleashed upon them for myself.

[valeas]

( Emilia hates that she let herself be rattled. Hates that, for all she tries to shed it, she is influenced by her mortal upbringing, and some part of her had worried over what this potential scandal would ruin. Such a human notion. Such old fears, and she swore to never fall back into a single one of them.

The muscles of her throat flex with her next swallow. She'd like to lean into her wit, if not the sharp of her tongue, to break this strange tension that's settled between them, like the first indication of a violent storm. As much as she'd tried to deny it, things have shifted between them.

Perhaps irrevocably. After a too-long moment of silence, )

Is that all?

[inferus]

( Wrath hesitates in the silence that follows her question. They are both aware and not aware simultaneously of the change between the both of them. His dark gold gaze razes over her stance like he might be able to pull apart the thoughts beyond the emotions he feels from her.

But he cannot. )

I wanted to see you.

( It's both simple and complicated all at once as he releases the caged breath there. )

I had not since the Tower, and I know Taravast has been tumultuous as of late.

[valeas]

( His delay does not go unnoticed. Likely her own is not insignificant. It must say something about them that they're uncertain when they're not sparring. Even the way they kissed, in the beginning, was more like trading blows. Neither of them did come out on top in the end, she thinks.

But there's a simplicity to his answer, an honesty, that further brings a thaw. She's been thinking of their last argument. Wrath is so meticulous in both his actions and words. Cannot isn't the same as will not. And she thinks ... she thinks he can't help her. Even if he'd like to. )

Yes, the tower.

( She's both relieved and anxious that he finally brings it up. The things she saw that day have not left her. Maybe it's pointless, what she's about to ask. Maybe it's something else he'll skirt around. But she has to know. ) The amulets. Were they truly to hide us from you and your brothers, or were they to keep me from my power? ( This, too, has not gone unnoticed: something changed the night she gave the horn of hades back to him. )

[inferus]

( Wrath stills when she mentions the amulets so quickly after she has mentioned the tower. He did not think she had noticed his wings, but he also did not allow himself to see if she had. Emilia has already spoken his true name once, and she did not realize at the time how accurate it had been. He had to cage his own reaction then and act as disinterested as ever.

He holds his breath for a moment and finds these words are ones he can impart though he is still careful with what he says. Wrath's gaze does not leave her as if the tension has become its own binding connection between them, and he understands she has put certain pieces together for herself. He isn't surprised she did. She is incredibly intelligent and perceptive. )

I suspect both are true. I could not know for certain until you had given it to me, and I saw the change in your power. ( He noticed the return in her power, and then he swallows through an abrupt well of emotions. ) I thought they may have been spelled as well to ensure you forget certain things.

[valeas]

( This is the closest Wrath's come to giving her some sort of confirmation, and she wonders if he will pay the price for it. It reminds her of what Claudia once said: that her aunt believed some of their memories were blocked or removed. The Umbra demon stalking Emilia had all but spelled it out.

Memories, like hearts, can be stolen.

It would explain the look on Wrath's face when she declared she couldn't ride that day they were given a horse to traverse the Stairs of Sighs. It would explain why some spells come easily as if through body memory, where others she'll forget the moment she needs them most. Why Nonna would punish her whenever she learned something on her own, beyond the basic earth magic she was taught. The betrayal carves deep, leaving her feeling more alone than before.

A wounding noise threatens to leave her, and she furiously swallows it back down. Makes her way over to him, flattening her hands on the low of his stomach. It's all that keeps their bodies from touching fully. And she is loathe to beg of anyone, and certainly him, but the words tumble out of her miserably. )

Tell me.

( Her fingers catch in the fabric of his shirt, gripping it tight, as she asks for some impossible thing. )

Please just tell me. I can't live like this.

[inferus]

( Devastation crowds his chest as she walks closer to him with that expression on her face, with her emotions pouring out from her. He feels them all, and he does not have to ask her what she is thinking to understand where her devastation comes from. This curse has trapped her and taken from her and hidden her from herself. It has shoved her power down somewhere deep and dark so it's so difficult to be reached, and her family was complicit in her not knowing so much of what she should know.

Wrath can feel the rage build up in him- his namesake sin, protective and furious about every single individual involved in doing this to her (that includes himself, he realizes- always realizes). She begs him for something he cannot give. By now, he knows she must realize that too, or she would be angrier in the way she came to him now.

Emotion (pain, grief, anger, concern) flits across his face, resides in the dark of his eyes more than anything as he looks down at her. He reaches for her hand while she grips into his shirt, and he covers her hand with his own. Her name leaves him: quiet and strained. )

Emilia.

( It's an apology for what he cannot give, for a freedom he cannot give her but that she deserves. She deserves it.

And he is heartbroken that all he has nothing to give. )

[valeas]

( Her hand loosens its grip on his shirt as he takes hold of it, their twined fingers so close to his heart. ☪

She's piecing more together as she goes. Finding holes everywhere.

Remembering the time Wrath stated he and his brothers have strict rules they're governed by in the Seven Circles, and severe penalties if they're broken. It stands to reason curses have their own strict rules, their own severe penalties, and she knows so little of both.

She wants to shake him and demand he explain everything. She wants to split him open and finally see. She has to know, she's always had to. To not know is to be in the dark. To not know is to be ruled. She vows there will come a time she's never without answers again.

Yet the sound of her name. It roots her in place. It lodges something in her throat, some burrowed memory wanting to explain the reason: why he sometimes looks so resigned, why she feels a longing for a home she does not remember. She swallows through it, meaning to say something, anything — )

[inferus]

( Wrath tightens his hold on her hand as soon as their fingers twine together, as soon as he sees her suffering and knows he can do little else to ease it. His other hand drifts over her cheekbone so delicately, so briefly it is almost a whisper in and of itself of affection. He might hold on to her hand and look into her eyes without being able to say a word, thinking of all the words he might say if he had the freedom to do so, but they are interrupted.

He lifts his head from her if only to glance around his shoulder at the balcony behind him.

He can sense the feelings of embarrassment, shame, and worry even from here. Then there's this clattering sound and a loud, "Oof. No, I'm not here again, am I?" Emilia may not be able to quite hear it as well, but Wrath's senses pick it up with ease.

Wrath releases an annoyed breath. )

You've a visitor. ...again.

[valeas]

( Emilia closes her eyes again briefly, though there is no goddess to beseech for the emotion that roils in her chest. To think she once believed herself romantically doomed. Now all she'd like is for people to stop proposing to her, especially when she can't always react like she'd like to.

She steps away from Wrath and moves closer to the balcony once again. )

I told him in no uncertain terms to go.

( Is he — is he walking straight toward that potted plant? )

[inferus]

( Wrath follows behind her, still annoyed at having their moment interrupted. He is tall enough that even from just a step behind her he can see the man. His gaze narrows at the sight of him, and it takes one sweep from his gaze to be able to tell the following with a slight grimace: )

He's drunk.

( He glances from the man up to Emilia again. His gaze lingers on her for a weighted moment. )

If you ignore him, he will most likely eventually fall asleep in a flowerbed after wandering in circles in the courtyard, or you can speak to him again.

( The choice is hers. She said she wished to deal with the suitors herself, and he means to respect her wishes. )

[valeas]

( Emilia does not share Wrath's certainty this man will simply go to sleep near a flowerbed. Even if that ended up being the case, someone would eventually stumble upon him, and her instinct at the moment is to draw as little attention to herself as possible. )

What I want is to be rid of him.

( She holds up a hand before the demon can so much as get a word in edgewise. )

Not like that.

( But they'll need to get him out of the palace. Now. )

[inferus]

( Wrath's expression goes through the journey one might expect at this quick turn. There's a slight smile lighting up at the idea that he could see this desire through for her to deflating again when she clarifies. It's the slightest shift within his expression, but it's there if one is paying attention.

He heaves out a breath, knowing they should do so before any further attention is drawn to them. She does not want any more attention drawn to her nor the situation, and neither does Wrath. This role has forced Emilia through a great deal. His shoulders straighten and tighten as a dark look comes over him when he glances down at the drunk man. )

Then lets go fetch him and remove him from the premises. ( Yes, they'll do so together. She has already had to bear these advances enough on her own without being able to simply turn them down as she would wish to. He will help go with to make certain the man leaves as quickly as possible this time. They will make him respect her and her wishes. )

[valeas]

( Emilia briefly contemplates hitting the man with a sleeping spell to make their task easier, but the thought makes her queasy. She still believes having power doesn't give someone the right to abuse it. But she's leaned heavily on certain spells since their arrival in Taravast, in ways she'd have never dared before.

Not on mortals. A viperidae, a water dragon, demons with unimaginable power — these are mortals who stand no chance. Except there was Francesco, wasn't there? And there was Antonio; learning of his betrayal, of the violence he'd exacted on her sister, had made her see red until she almost murdered him.

She still wants to.

In the end, these deliberations will matter very little. When she and Wrath make their way to the courtyard, they'll find Alvize swaying so dramatically that he seems to be a wind's breath away from dropping to the floor unconscious. )

[inferus]

( Wrath's jaw locks at the sight of the man, staring him down like prey who just managed to escape its trap or who decided to return after Wrath had granted him mercy (and listened to Emilia when she said she wished to take care of it on her own, but being this close to the man now, it's much harder to shove down his possessiveness and fury on her behalf).

He reaches out to grip hold of him likely too tightly before the man can fall on his face, and indeed the man lets out a noise at the tight grip- it's a noise of both fear and ow. And Wrath delights in the sound of it though none of that delight will show on his face beyond the slightest of predatory flash within his eyes.

Alvize looks up at Emilia and then Wrath and then back at Emilia, and he flushes suddenly, squirming in Wrath's tight grip and under his unsettling gaze as his head ducks low like he's trying to disappear into the pavement beneath him, "My beautif- ow, my lady, I am so sorry. I was trying to leave as you wish, but my nerves have been shot since- since the Undead and the Huntress again."

His voice slurs, but his contrition seems genuine. )

[valeas]

( Her patience wears thin.

Thin enough that she is moments away from losing it altogether when something stops her. Her pace is brought to a crawl, and something in her expression shifts as she catches it. Catches that one word that gives a whole new meaning to tonight's utterly foolish ongoings. )

Again?

( The man's eyes squeeze shut, as if he wants to will this all away like some bad dream. His unsteadiness is true, as is his contrition and his fear. Emilia wonders how much of tonight was about the proposal, and how much of it was recklessness born from this fear. Her gaze lifts to Wrath as Alvize speaks.

"Don Bonaccorso's always protected us, always. She wasn't supposed to come back. Not after what she did. Why did she come back?" )

[inferus]

( Wrath meets Emilia's gaze for a weighted moment. The Huntress is someone they need information on if they intend to have any chance against her in the future. He can sense the fear inside of the man - the fear linked deeply to despair, which he can now associate with the Huntress and the Undead. )

What happened the last time she was here?

( The drunkenness allows the words to spill more freely from his mouth: "An entire district sunk into the water because of the Huntress, never to be seen again! So many died. They have empty graves, empty tombs. They could not be retrieved from the waters."

Wrath stiffens further. Their steps out of the palace have slowed considerably. He had wondered for some time how the district sunk, and now that he knows- The Huntress has to be powerful to make it through his own defenses, and this gives further evidence to the destruction she can bring. )

[valeas]

( The man speaks no further.

Not coherently, at least. Emilia is able to catch fragments amidst the sorrowful mumbles. Bits and pieces about how much magic was lost. But eventually, he slumps into Wrath's arms and passes out. An inconvenience to Wrath's growing frustration, to be sure. But helpful to their overall aim.

They're able to remove him from the palace and take him back to his office, as Emilia has no clue where he lives.

She's inordinately quiet on the way back, going over the things this man said.

If they can be trusted, drunk as he was. )