10-30-2019, 09:25 PM
Oriena sauntered through the revellers, the flicker of a smile on her lips, though the source of her amusement was unclear. There was a wicked glitter in her gaze, brushing up and down those who met her eye like the allure of a crooked finger; held a beat then gone, as was she. She did not slow or pause.
Some faces she recognised; some clearly recognised her too. None held her attention.
Her blood burned hot as she followed the vein to its beating heart, the thrill of a formless anticipation shivering against her skin like a lover’s touch. A reckless curiosity, but if one was going to take a gamble why exercise caution at all? Maybe it would end bloody; at worst, well… she was more curious than afraid, at least. (she walks amongst the rotting dead, O Lady of Sorrows, the torn hem of her robe caressing grey flesh and cold viscera, while in the distance hang the burning torches of funeral pyres) For a moment horror shuddered through the light splashed food carts, uninvited and unannounced; memory that was not memory, slipping from her mind like oil on water almost as soon as it hit her. It never penetrated far, and never left more than a disturbing sense of duality.
Fuck but she hoped that faded.
By now the pavilion was up ahead. Ori had little interest in power; not the sort desired by most, anyway. She certainly coveted no thrones. But the shifts and spikes and balances of it drew her like nectar, a game with which to toy like a kitten with string. Yun Kao knew her predilections. The Syndicate had as much use for Ori as Ori had interest in it, which was as much to say the woman had no reason to welcome her. Yet her stride did not pause, cutting through the lines of gift-givers until a hand grabbed her wrist. For a moment the clench of Ori’s muscles urged a physical retaliation; hungered for it. But it was only the power that unfurled, intricate and cloying as maggots on a corpse.
“Come now, I’m a friend.” A careless smile; an insolent wink. She was surprised and then amused when she felt the loosening of those fingers. The man nodded like she spoke an obvious truth. It was that easy.
And that boring.
For a moment her intent waned. Manipulation with no sting was an unappetising meal; she had precious little interest in victory when it lacked any challenge. Still, she ought to be pleased it had worked, even if it did not spark the pleasure she had anticipated. Her fingers wrapped where his hand still rested, more escort than security now, then glanced up ahead to where those in the chairs were beginning to stir faint interest in the brief disturbance. It was only their vantage she wanted; an easy way to observe the gathering. They held this celebration in the palm of their hands, for whatever ends they intended. Oriena did not care. She had her own.
It did not take much persuasion to urge him to take her on, not with the threads burrowing under his skull. They flowed and divided once she drew closer, and seeped their poison into a new target. Though she doubted it was mutual Ori had always liked Yun; or her ruthlessness, at least -- it was not like the woman had ever been fun. The touch of power she extended was light, as was the tease of her smile as she stepped into their territory. It was a welcome she solicited, and only from Yun. The rest she ignored.
“Hello, beautiful. Did you save me a chair?” Low laughter followed, darkly amused to watch the woman smooth her intrusion like Oriena were the closest of companions. There was something bitter in it though, watching that loss of will. Too late to regret now, though.
[[Yun moded with permission]]
Some faces she recognised; some clearly recognised her too. None held her attention.
Her blood burned hot as she followed the vein to its beating heart, the thrill of a formless anticipation shivering against her skin like a lover’s touch. A reckless curiosity, but if one was going to take a gamble why exercise caution at all? Maybe it would end bloody; at worst, well… she was more curious than afraid, at least. (she walks amongst the rotting dead, O Lady of Sorrows, the torn hem of her robe caressing grey flesh and cold viscera, while in the distance hang the burning torches of funeral pyres) For a moment horror shuddered through the light splashed food carts, uninvited and unannounced; memory that was not memory, slipping from her mind like oil on water almost as soon as it hit her. It never penetrated far, and never left more than a disturbing sense of duality.
Fuck but she hoped that faded.
By now the pavilion was up ahead. Ori had little interest in power; not the sort desired by most, anyway. She certainly coveted no thrones. But the shifts and spikes and balances of it drew her like nectar, a game with which to toy like a kitten with string. Yun Kao knew her predilections. The Syndicate had as much use for Ori as Ori had interest in it, which was as much to say the woman had no reason to welcome her. Yet her stride did not pause, cutting through the lines of gift-givers until a hand grabbed her wrist. For a moment the clench of Ori’s muscles urged a physical retaliation; hungered for it. But it was only the power that unfurled, intricate and cloying as maggots on a corpse.
“Come now, I’m a friend.” A careless smile; an insolent wink. She was surprised and then amused when she felt the loosening of those fingers. The man nodded like she spoke an obvious truth. It was that easy.
And that boring.
For a moment her intent waned. Manipulation with no sting was an unappetising meal; she had precious little interest in victory when it lacked any challenge. Still, she ought to be pleased it had worked, even if it did not spark the pleasure she had anticipated. Her fingers wrapped where his hand still rested, more escort than security now, then glanced up ahead to where those in the chairs were beginning to stir faint interest in the brief disturbance. It was only their vantage she wanted; an easy way to observe the gathering. They held this celebration in the palm of their hands, for whatever ends they intended. Oriena did not care. She had her own.
It did not take much persuasion to urge him to take her on, not with the threads burrowing under his skull. They flowed and divided once she drew closer, and seeped their poison into a new target. Though she doubted it was mutual Ori had always liked Yun; or her ruthlessness, at least -- it was not like the woman had ever been fun. The touch of power she extended was light, as was the tease of her smile as she stepped into their territory. It was a welcome she solicited, and only from Yun. The rest she ignored.
“Hello, beautiful. Did you save me a chair?” Low laughter followed, darkly amused to watch the woman smooth her intrusion like Oriena were the closest of companions. There was something bitter in it though, watching that loss of will. Too late to regret now, though.
[[Yun moded with permission]]