09-03-2020, 02:35 AM
Rowan’s heart leapt at the word ‘Pope.’ Oh, she was a true Voodoo Queen, but one was not raised Irish Catholic to turn their back on such a figure. And besides, New Orleans Voodoo had taken on facets of the Faith, if only so that the slave owners did not force conversion on the poor souls they had taken; but after so many years of working such iconography into your rituals… Well, Rowan still held a certain reverence for the Father of the Church – whether she followed its teachings or not. Oh, Mother would just die if she heard that her own daughter would be having an audience with the Holy Father.
Rowan smirked at the thought.
Armande looked to her and spoke, clearly referencing her sister. Surely, they would not have to play peacemaker with the Pope… Then again, wouldn’t they? Rowan was not entirely sure what Armande’s relationship with the man was. Come to think of it, why did he know the Pope of all people? The realization that she had pledged to follow a man she knew next to nothing about hit her again; it was not the first time and it certainly would not be the last. What games had fate been playing with her? The visions only told her so much.
‘Follow to survive, forsake to die.’
Rowan felt a shiver coming on at the memory of the ethereal words but suppressed it at the last moment. So what if she did not fully know Armande? She would come to. Now was not the time to consider such things. Visions of the previous night danced along her memory and the smirk on her face widened. They had chemistry in spades and there was that strange butterfly feeling in her stomach when she looked upon his face, that would have to be enough for now. And besides, she had her sister with her.
Vale knelt herself in a way that would have looked submissive on anyone else, but on her? She looked like a lioness bowing to her equal. No being alive would ever dominate Valeriya and that was a trait Rowan admired in her sister. She was fierce, proud, and loyal.
Rowan’s hands slipped from the chairback and settled onto Armande’s shoulders, deftly working at the large knots that had formed in his muscles. She pulled him back into the chair and rubbed deeper, quicker.
“If the Holy Father understands that the world is at stake in what we do, I am sure he will be most agreeable,” Rowan spoke in honeyed tones to her two lovers, “Let us use words first, sister, we may need his skin intact if our vision proves true. If he insists on resistance to our mission, well, I am certain you will make him see the light, sister.”
Rowan laughed a tinkling sound at the last statement before turning her words to Armande, “Will he be meeting us abroad, then? Or will we be traveling to the Vatican? I should still be able to charter a private jet for us, should the need arise. I do know ways to ensure our passage is discreet. No one knew I came to First Dominance until I opened the café, after all.”
Rowan smirked at the thought.
Armande looked to her and spoke, clearly referencing her sister. Surely, they would not have to play peacemaker with the Pope… Then again, wouldn’t they? Rowan was not entirely sure what Armande’s relationship with the man was. Come to think of it, why did he know the Pope of all people? The realization that she had pledged to follow a man she knew next to nothing about hit her again; it was not the first time and it certainly would not be the last. What games had fate been playing with her? The visions only told her so much.
‘Follow to survive, forsake to die.’
Rowan felt a shiver coming on at the memory of the ethereal words but suppressed it at the last moment. So what if she did not fully know Armande? She would come to. Now was not the time to consider such things. Visions of the previous night danced along her memory and the smirk on her face widened. They had chemistry in spades and there was that strange butterfly feeling in her stomach when she looked upon his face, that would have to be enough for now. And besides, she had her sister with her.
Vale knelt herself in a way that would have looked submissive on anyone else, but on her? She looked like a lioness bowing to her equal. No being alive would ever dominate Valeriya and that was a trait Rowan admired in her sister. She was fierce, proud, and loyal.
Rowan’s hands slipped from the chairback and settled onto Armande’s shoulders, deftly working at the large knots that had formed in his muscles. She pulled him back into the chair and rubbed deeper, quicker.
“If the Holy Father understands that the world is at stake in what we do, I am sure he will be most agreeable,” Rowan spoke in honeyed tones to her two lovers, “Let us use words first, sister, we may need his skin intact if our vision proves true. If he insists on resistance to our mission, well, I am certain you will make him see the light, sister.”
Rowan laughed a tinkling sound at the last statement before turning her words to Armande, “Will he be meeting us abroad, then? Or will we be traveling to the Vatican? I should still be able to charter a private jet for us, should the need arise. I do know ways to ensure our passage is discreet. No one knew I came to First Dominance until I opened the café, after all.”