ic inbox

[rathercommon]

crystal | letter | cease and desist notices slipped under her door | action

Comments

[keenly]

[Being among these bright hopefuls has affected him more than he thought.]. Um. Until recently, half our division heads were rifters. One still is. Things aren’t any different for someone like you as for someone like me. They think I’m a demon too, you know.

[rathercommon]

[ That's...Right. Mages are supposed to be demonic here, aren't they? It's a weird thought. ]

It's not about what people think of me. I mean - I don't much care what people think of me, you know. It's more...You know, maybe we're both demons or whatever, but I'm a demon who only seems to live two or three years at most. If the other rifters are anything to go by. I mean, there's hardly anything sillier than working towards a long and prosperous life when it's certainly not going to be long, don't you think?

action; don’t fret darling it’s spa day

[coquettish_trees]

[ as promised, there was someone waiting just off the steps from Lowtown, and Kitty will find herself delivered, not unlike a package, to a lovely building with a veranda partially walled with trellised roses in full summer bloom, the smell of them even more distinct with the heat of the day. Somewhere there is someone playing lute softly. Two elven women in clean pressed uniforms are circulating with pitchers of something or other around the various chairs, couches, and lounges that are artfully arranged beneath the roof, one of which contains a stretched out Lady Alexandrie in full lounge, wearing a white robe tied closed at her waist which falls in folds so nicely that it’s almost certainly expensive.

Spotting the maid she’d sent, she sits up and waves with a bright smile and draws her slippered feet in to make room on the couch, which she pats in invitation. ]

Oh good! Come and sit! How were those beastly stairs?

treat. yo. self.

[rathercommon]

[ For all of Kitty Jones' talk of openness and frankness and honesty, she does not have the bearing of someone open, frank, or honest. Kitty is a skinny, hard-faced creature, a girl whose large eyes are constantly watching for an attack that may or may not come, a girl whose face betrays little emotion aside from wariness. Part of it, admittedly, is the setting: a place like this feels dangerous to her, filled with enemies. But part of it is simply her personality. She's not going to relax easily, it seems.

She comes, and she sits; from her posture, you'd think there were needles embedded in the couch cushion. Still, there's no open hostility when she looks upon Alexandrie, just an intense focus, like she's trying to search something out. ]

Decent exercise. Have you been here before?

[coquettish_trees]

On occasion. [ Kitty’s intense focus is met with a light and seemingly perpetually amused expression; trying to catch hold of Alexandrie’s actual thoughts or feelings is much like trying to climb a hill of greased glass. They are largely curious, at the moment, taking in the hard and nearly furtive bearing of the young woman she’d just been speaking at length with.

So guarded! And not at all comfortable in this sphere. Here the amusement sparkles in Alexandrie’s eyes. Perhaps her forthrightness would be an equal trade to Kitty’s unknotting. ]

It was lovelier before this dreadful weather [ she clicks her tongue with a slight aggrieved frown ], but the roses have come in well.

If you like, we may sit and visit a while, but there are some lovely tubs with the possibility of lovely herbs being added to them waiting quite patiently for us to soak in them, and it is eminently possible to speak while neck-deep in hot water.

[rathercommon]

[ The disadvantages of that are immediately obvious. Soaking in a tub means vulnerability. No clothes, no weapons, no easy escape. But, God, it's been - what - weeks, months, ages since she's been in hot water. All her washing has been using a cloth dipped in cold water. It's miserable, and she feels grimy and unclean. Sure, a bath isn't the scorching-hot shower she'd want, but it is still something.

But -

You said you'd do it, Kitty. You said you'd try to relax. Well, here's hoping that Kitty won't be learning that Alexandrie's true, honest self is a murderess. ]

Yeah. That sounds nice. Where are they?

[ Kitty stands up again at once, casting her gaze about. Even when seeking out relaxation, her manner is still humming with taut energy. ]

in minrathous, before kitty peaces out; just lmk if anything needs changing

[limier]

Come in,

[ The room's identical to any in the sweep of hall reserved for Inquisition visitors. A good black coat's been laid upon the bed, apparently to be mulled over.

It's not as though there isn't precedent for how to dress — the Orlesian embassy employs mages, and knights are required in turn. Even so. An unusual thing, to need represent nation, order, and quasi-heretical cause in one. Maker willing, Amsel will keep enough shut of her opinions to win them some goodwill here; a southern templar and some enormous elf certainly won't manage it.

The other half of the room is given over to Thranduil's domain (and a great deal of his luggage). She refrains from kicking it to turn, gesture to a chair. ]

I have been remiss. I've not asked how you prefer to be addressed.

[ 'That girl' probably will get old. ]

this is perfect, you are perfect

[rathercommon]

How I prefer...?

[ The formality is odd, to be sure. Kitty isn't used to all the courtesies she's being given here. A girl and a commoner doesn't get asked how she prefers to be addressed; hell, she's likely to get a snappish you there what's your name. Typically, Kitty's accustomed to being called girl, the word dripping with boredom at best, menace at worst. ]

Kitty's fine. [ Or, well - ] Kitty's the best option, actually. Miss Jones always sounds so off.

[ Kitty's dressed plainly and practically. She sits, her posture prim, on the edge of the chair, leaning forward with equal parts nerves and anticipation. ]

What about you? I mean - I can definitely just call you Commander Coupe. That's how everyone else has been referring to you. I don't mind.

[coquettish_trees]

I am gratified to see that the idea pleases you so well!

[ Kitty is like a bowstring pulled to the ear; it's almost painful to watch her. Vastly more languid, especially by comparison, Alexandrie unfolds from her place and stands, gesturing to one of the elven women that they were ready. The woman bobs a curtsy and gestures for them to follow.

The inside of the building is cool stone hallways with numerous smaller rooms on the outer side, and open arches on the other leading to larger shared areas within. They are shown to one of the smaller, where two round tubs of water steam lightly in the light filtering through gauzy curtains the color of the roses outside. There are two sets of shelves stocked with linens flanking a table at the back of the room on which rests an assortment of herbs, dried flowers, and oils, and two smaller tables next to the tubs with fragrant soaps and small jars of fine sand for slightly more intensive scrubbing if desired.

Alexandrie has already shouldered out of her robe and handed it to the waiting attendant, one foot already in the water before she begins to explain.]

These are simply for cleaning; once we've finished, I'll ring for the second round of water, in which we may happily soak for a bit, and then we shall see something done about our nails.

[rathercommon]

Oh.

[ Kitty had been studying the room (taking note of any potential exits and any potential weapons, of which there are rather dismayingly few), but the splash of water had attracted her attention, and then she'd looked over and Alexandrie had suddenly been very naked. She casts her eyes away immediately, her face going hot as she blushes deep pink.

Ugh. Of course this wasn't going to be done fully clothed, but - well - Kitty goes about shucking her clothes the way that someone ought to go about shucking their clothes, back turned and movements furtive, unhooking her bra underneath her shirt - and then suddenly there's a woman there, one of the attendants, and Kitty looks up in confused dismay. ]

What? Oh -

[ The attendant asks if she can help her, and Kitty (the blush shading into scarlet, now), answers - ]

No. I know how to...It's fine. You should go and - and relax.

[ With a little more embarrassment and shyness, Kitty manages to pull off the last of her clothes, then steps into the water as quickly as possible to duck down in it and hide.

What a production. ]

[coquettish_trees]

[ Honestly, 'what a production' could fairly sum up just about anything Alexandrie does, including the process of lathering the bar of soap pressed with rose petals which she is currently engaged in, continuing about the visit as if utterly unconcerned with Kitty's difficulty. She dismisses her attendant with a brief casual wave of her hand, and then, save for the quiet splashing of water and the continued playing of the lute from wherever it is, it will be quiet.

After a moment left for Kitty to recombobulate herself a bit, during which Alexandrie is happily soaping herself with the smooth and finely scented bubbles she'd created, she speaks. ]

I know not how it is that such things are done in your world, although I imagine there are only so many manners in which one can apply hot water to one's person but by our standards— [ a pause, to chuckle and amend slightly ] by my standards, this is a fair enough experience.

I imagine, given what you have said, that you have not had much time to take in simply... being?

[rathercommon]

[ Kitty, who'd taken those moments of silence to sink down into the water all the way to her nostrils, pushes herself up enough that her chin clears the water's surface. Alexandrie's pause was quite strategically correct; the time she took has let the hot water work its magic. Kitty's less rattled when she talks. ]

Meaning, what, time for leisure? Not since I started paying my own bills. [ And simultaneously fighting a revolution, all misguided anger and false dreams. All her holidays and free hours given over to making herself stronger, faster, cleverer, learning how to crawl through the dark, cracking windows and fighting demons. For nothing.

God, though...How long has it been since her last hot bath? She was never much of one for baths, honestly - they take too long - so the last time must have been when she was a girl. But even her last hot shower - it must have been before she snuck into Gladstone's tomb. A lifetime ago. Her back aches with the slow unwinding of knots. There are parts of her that - she didn't even remember that they could not hurt, so accustomed has she been to the twinges. She really should explore more, find a place that'll do this for her on the regular... ]

But - yeah. This is...nice. [ And then, trying her best not to sound judgmental: ] Is this something you do...regularly?

[coquettish_trees]

[ Alexandrie opens her mouth to ask if Kitty means bathing, knowing full well that that was not the intent of the question, but decides instead to be mindful of her promise. So, instead: ]

Not regularly enough that I have a standing appointment, and not for the full experience save on special occasions. Bathing at the apartments is not unacceptable, and Emile is more than able to take care of the condition of my hands and feet. It is nice, however, to sometimes spare the staff the need to carry water about, and to give Emile some time to herself.

[ she says this as if she believes entirely that she is truly doing something magnanimous for her servants and lady's maid by going to the spa, then sighs wistfully. ]

I do miss the places in Val Royeaux, however. I grieve I was unable to provide that experience.

[rathercommon]

[ Definitely don't grieve for that. This is about as much as I can take. The attendants aren't slaves, and it's not like this is a den of abuse and exploitation, so Kitty doesn't exactly feel like a monster taking advantage of all the luxury. But even so, every glint of shining silver, every brush of flower petals on skin reminds her - economic exploitation is what allows for this beauty; aesthetic perfection always comes from hands crushed in factory machinery, farms dynamited to make way for mines, men and women sent abroad to die to claim the territory that holds gems and gold...

Yeah. This level of finery is definitely enough for her. ]

This is fine.

[ She waves her hands through the water, creating little currents and eddies that play over her skin. She doesn't love it, this sudden ache of guilt replacing the pleasure she was feeling over the luxury just a moment before. Then, abruptly: ]

Where'd your money come from? Yours and your family's.

[coquettish_trees]

[ the slight downturn in Kitty's mood is noted and filed; it's not all that surprising to Alexandrie that the young woman is one of the ilk of commoners that seems to be as distressed by luxury as they are appreciative of it. Wondering too much about the state of things rather than accepting that they simply are as they are is a road to ruin. ]

Architecture and design. [ she lifts a pale, shapely leg out of the water to soap it ] In a country that prides itself on the beauty and elegance of its cities it is a highly valued trade, and my Lord Father is a particularly respected talent in a long line of such. Especially under Empress Celene's illustrious reign; she is quite invested in artistry.

[rathercommon]

Artistry?

[ Kitty's gaze flicks over to Alexandrie, her brows coming down. ]

When the world's like this?

[coquettish_trees]

[ Alexandrie meets her gaze with a level one, her eyebrows arcing gracefully. ]

Of course. To my mind, there is never a better time to try to find and create beauty in the world. It is a reminder that there are things in life besides strife and uncertainty. Should we wait until everything in life is perfection before making things that feed the spirit? Such a thing will never happen, and we should be left without one of the things that makes life worth living.

[rathercommon]

I don't know if buildings make life worth living.

[ That slips out rather without thought. Which...All right, even if Kitty does think that, which she doesn't really, it's not exactly polite to say that to someone whose family makes their livelihood that way. Rather embarrassed, Kitty mutters - ]

No offense. Sorry.

I used to work in an art shop.

[ Kitty herself isn't fully certain what the point of that statement was - look, I'm allowed to be contemptuous of art, I made my living that way? look, art still existed in the pits of London? look, I'm desperate for something to say? But at least it introduces something beyond let me sneer at something you like. ]

[coquettish_trees]

[ lightly, with a graceful shrug: ] I take none. But I do suggest that ones surroundings do a great deal to influence ones spirit.

Look at the Gallows, for instance. [ the name of the island fortress is said with considerable distaste. What a terrible name, honestly. She's already complained. ] It was made to be imposing. Dour. Lifeless and hard. To bear down on the spirits of those who came through it. Imagine instead that it were bright white marble rather than dull grey, the lines curving rather than severe, the entrances lofty and grand, the spaces open and inviting.

Would we not be more proud, to occupy and keep such a space? Proud to welcome diplomats, proud to guard it, proud to keep it clean and bright and beautiful? Or, if for some reason it did not lift ones heart to exist amidst beauty, at the very least it would not make it more weighty.

[ she switches legs, looking back at the limb to clean it properly ]

If it did not matter so, why would we create our Chantries with lofty ceilings? Fill our windows with coloured Seraultine glass? Delight to find a patch of green amidst buildings? A flower in an unexpected place? To see a sky stretching blue from horizon to horizon with a few white clouds like feathers for ornament? No. It matters. And it matters more when there is ugliness in the world.

[rathercommon]

[ Kitty looks over at Alexandrie. Her voice is quiet, now, and steady. As discombobulated as she might feel when it comes to associating with people like Lexie, there are certain realms in which Kitty suffers no lack of self-confidence. ]

Those open spaces and lofty ceilings would have been built by slaves, though. I can't see what's beautiful about that.

[coquettish_trees]

[ Alexandrie replaces her leg in the water and leans her elbows over the side of the tub towards Kitty's. ]

Whether the origin of art can be separated from the art itself is a different conversation entirely from the subject of whether or not beauty has worth in a world that is not always beautiful. Perhaps the... island... is a poor illustration for you. Consider instead an entire city built by well paid and well treated workers to match its aesthetic on one side, and the same city built the way I described.

[rathercommon]

[ A puff of breath from between her lips. ]

Sorry, I'm having a bit of trouble imagining a city like that.

[coquettish_trees]

[ here Alexandrie flicks the surface of the water with slight irritation and a puff of her own breath. ]

I begin to see why you are utterly unable to relax. Can we not have an exercise of thought on an esoteric topic without you creating details you have lovingly designed to make you glum?

Fine. Consider that you may live in one of two places, entirely untouched by any living hands. One is near the wild hollyhocks of the Ylenn Basin, the gentle rolling hills blanketed with their bright blossoms, the gentle breeze under the wide sky blowing them like water and running fingers through your hair, and one is a grey swamp where it rains interminably and the sun is rarely seen. In which area do you think you might feel more alive? More energetic in your pursuits?

[ here she frowns preemptively at Kitty. ]

And if you choose merely to be contrary, I shall be ever so cross with you.

[rathercommon]

[ Well, as a Londoner, she'd certainly feel more at home in the latter. But...giving that answer would be contrary, and Alexandrie wouldn't get the joke anyway. So, with a little bit of a sigh, she admits - ]

All right, yes, the former. And very nice poetry. [ Kitty also doesn't like poetry. ]

But I'm not just being contrary. It's... [ Another little sigh, then - ] I think we're trained to appreciate beauty and love beauty as a means of social control. I mean, just look at what they do to women. How long are ladies - ladies like you - supposed to spend on your appearance each day? And how much time does that take away from things like...reading, and organizing, and fighting?

[coquettish_trees]

[ oh good, she wins. a tiny bit, at least. ]

Oh, hours. But, as to the first and second, those are eminently possible while having ones hair done and becoming ensconced in ones gown. That is also the time I often use to study the rules and powers of whatever society I shall be moving within and keep myself practiced and improving in the languages I speak. I hardly believe myself to be the exception; one must be sharp to move within such circles successfully.

To the third? [ another light shrug ] There are more ways of fighting than those that roughen your hands and encourage scarring, [ shudder ] and the first two are part of them. As is, if we are being honest, ones appearance. It is not just frippery, it is part and parcel of making oneself an effective weapon.