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The Great Room
Topic Started: Jun 21 2012, 08:10 PM (668 Views)
Telsa
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Venture through immense double doors of intricately carved wood and into the Entry Hall. The velvet black backdrop of the mosaic tile on the floor is lit with tiny silver-white stars that seem to shine with soft light from deep within the tiles themselves. Along the walls, an array of windows line the upper reaches of this tall entry hall, with stained glass that shift colors and give glimpses of the Isles of Sanctuary. Below, mirrors of all shapes and sizes; with carefully placed candles on slender wooden tables of various heights, reflecting rays of soft, shimmering golden light.

The Great Room is large, three stories tall and stretching far back from the three steps that move downward into the massive room. Balconies for the second and third floors line two opposite sides of the room, accessed on the left by tower stairs located in the library, and on the right by an elegant curving staircase of deep mahogany. Hidden in the shadows of that curve, an iron door stands tightly locked, leading to the dungeon and cavern below. On the walls hang tapestries, delicate and detailed; scenes from the Isles.

At the far end of the massive room, a roaring fire with flames dancing jade and umber burns in an immense hearth that stands taller than any man. With chairs and settees of soft velvet and smooth leather artfully arranged, the room manages to be warm and inviting. Grouped for privacy, enclaves of seating are plentiful about the immense room yet most manage to be in sight of the entry. A large mahogany table, surrounded by stiff backed chairs, takes up the center of the room beneath a massive chandelier of carefully crafted silver.

A free-standing bar takes up the space to the right of the hearth, standing before tall shelves that reach high up the deep jet of the black stone walls. Stocked with bottles and books, tiny bags and tinier boxes, it holds the basic necessities of drink and ritual alike. To the left of the fireplace, a lace covered French door that leads to the inner courtyard. There are four more exits, two on either side of the room; tapestry covered doorways that lead to the main hall for each wing of the castle. The right leads to sleeping chambers; and the left to the library, garden rooms, and ballroom.
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Telsa
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Cont from The Outer Grounds

As always, the massive hearth at the end of the room was roaring with flames. Telsa moved silently about, pouring herself a drink from the fine crystal carafe at the bar. Her eyes watched the small black cat where he lay before the fire. Dry now and wrapped in a soft thick blanket, he appeared to doze quite happily. A smile played about Telsa's full red lips, and pure mischief danced in her eyes as she moved closer and knelt gracefully beside the sleeping animal. Her soft fingers, practiced in so many kinds of touch, began to stroke the cat gently behind the ears.
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Dominic

A thick rumbling purr pushed its way slowly into his consciousness. A pleasant sound, a sound related almost universally with contentment. Against any conscious will, he stretched his sleek body with sinuous ease. Sharp claws tipped out from padded paws, kneading against the soft wool blanket that he'd been tenderly wrapped in by some loving soul. He tilted his head, the purr rumbling deeper in his chest, and pushed against the fingers that pleasured that sensitive area between his ears.

His ears.

Deep purr turned in an instant to harsh growl. Sharp claws that had flexed with pleasure flexed once with a sharp swipe of anger, then there was a rush of power through the room. It took less, slipping back into his man form, but he felt it all the same. Not that it showed when he rose up, pulling the now hated wool blanket around his naked body.

Dominic shook his long black hair back from his finely chiseled face. Fire danced in his green eyes, a dizzying circle of gold spinning for an instant as his change settled into each cell of his leanly muscled body. He held the blanket tight about his middle, his sleek chest hairless and softly tanned so that it glowed golden in the firelight. Anger and resentment, relief, and a burning shame; they warred on his handsome face as he stared at the Baroness. She looked exactly as he remembered, though her mood was much improved over his last encounter. Maybe he'd be lucky?

Hope is a strong emotion, perhaps the strongest of all. Even in the face of the worst adversity, with hope, one can at least attempt to survive. Hope won out, and for the first time since he'd been cursed he didn't rant and rave at the indignity of anyone seeing him in his hated feline form.

"I did it."

His voice was a rough whisper, joy skipping in the few words and bringing a smile to tug at his mouth.

"I returned. And you said it couldn't be done."

-------------

Dominic
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Telsa
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"Correction," Telsa spoke briskly, letting her eyes linger with a rather insolent leer at his body before she rose. "I told you that I had never seen it done." She rather pointedly pulled at the small, wet spot on her gray silk blouse where she had cradled him. "I told you, exactly, that I didn't know how, by all the gods and goddesses, you had ended up at the Bastion. That I might have to see you had Sanctuary, but damned if I was going to live with your whining. You didn't take it very well, you know."

The soft linen of her black skirt swung lightly about her calves as she turned, slender ankles graceful in the high arc of her designer shoes. How well she remembered that night, a mere twenty years was a simple blink. Dominic had been at the castle for over two years, and in that time accomplished....nothing. Schezda had taken a wicked delight in teasing him, and Dominic had responded with an attitude much more akin to an angry cat than a proud wolf. She had, finally, sent him off to one of the islands, unable to bear his whining, "poor me, it's not my fault" attitude another single minute. If the Guardians, as she thought of them, had sent him back here somehow, then she must trust that meant he was ready to move forward.

However, she'd still see for herself. Her words were carefully chosen, the tone perfect in its innocent parry as she motioned at the saucer of milk on the floor at Dominic's feet.

"Are you finished with your milk, dear?"
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Dominic

Dominic had prepared himself for it. The look of disdain in those cool blue eyes, that sensation he remembered so well of feeling judged and found lacking. The silent taunts in his head. It was all worked out in his mind. He'd throw back his head and laugh, then stare the wolf straight in the eyes, pulling on all of the pride he remembered bearing in early years. He'd thought a lot lately about those early years.

He had prepared himself for it from the wolf. Not from the Baroness.

"You classless bitch," he thought, but wisely kept to himself. His eyes were emerald hard as he gazed at her. The effort to remember his goal was mighty, and the conflicting emotions clashed again on his face before he managed to pull a look of bored neutrality to cover them. The look was far more feline than he knew, but it served his purpose.

"I thank you for your care, Baroness," he stated, his bow brief but somehow still elegant despite the rose colored blanket that was the only thing covering him. He pointedly ignored the saucer of milk at his feet; managing to vanquish his deep desire to send it crashing against the wall with a good, hard kick. He knew that he was dancing on the edge of a cliff just now, and was so very afraid that another remark from those full red lips of hers would send him plummeting back down. He'd worked too hard for that to happen, he wasn't going to let her kick him out again.

"Would my room still be available, my lady?" He called on all the polite etiquette he'd been so carefully taught as a child visiting the Court. His face remained neutral, his voice well-modulated and his words clearly spoken. He gazed straight into her eyes, waiting to see how she would decide his fate.
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Telsa
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The Baroness nodded her head ever so slightly, the movement barely rustling the thick mass of black curls that lay about her shoulders. Her blue eyes sparkled, and her lips curved in a soft smile. "Very good," she thought to herself, "much more control than before, he's remembering his heritage for its strengths."

"Of course, Dominic." She caught herself, didn't lecture him. Perhaps she had patterns to break as well, at least where he as concerned. She had talked till she was blue in the face before, trying to make him understand. In the end, it had seemed to be all for naught and she had sent him to the islands. "They are just as they were before." She couldn't resist, though this time the jibe came not from the desire to test but to tease in a different nature. "You'll even find clothes waiting for you." She let her eyes move over his body again and smiled.


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Dominic

Dominic's head tilted a bit, his hearing as keen as it had ever been. He simply couldn't believe he truly heard what he thought he did in her tone. His mouth opened, and to his embarrassment he almost stuttered. He covered it with a cough, one hand releasing the clutched blanket to cover the gaff.

"I thank you, my lady, for your kindness." With a boldness he wasn't sure he still had in him, he let his gaze rake over her boldly, something that would have gotten him censured in Court but it matched her own leer measure for measure. "I beg your leave, Baroness." He bowed again, working hard not to rush from the room. His steps were measured as he crossed to the stairs and started up.

Cont in Dominic's Rooms

---------------

Dominic
Edited by Dominic, Jun 24 2012, 04:14 PM.
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Telsa
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Telsa' eyes followed Dominic as he made his way up the stairs, enjoying the view in a more detached way than she had when he was watching her. How much had he accepted? Sweet goddess knew that she had told him over and over. He didn't end up here by accident. If the Guardians brought him here, instead of sending him straight to one of the islands, he had a role to play, a job to do. She had refused to believe from the start that role could be threatening, even though she knew the Guardians made no distinction in that manner. That was up to her, it was part of her duty as Baroness of the Bastion. She trusted her instincts in this instance, despite Schezda's obvious disdain.

"They didn't give me time... I wasn't told this...". Whine, snivel, moan. Telsa had thought she would go insane listening to him. Two years he had lingered at the castle, accomplishing nothing except to alienate anyone who came around him. He told his version of the tale to anyone who would listen, having apparently decided that since this was Sanctuary nothing could hurt him here. He had finally been disabused of that particular notion, and in a rather spectacular fashion. All he learned from the lesson was to curb his tongue around Jimsonweed. His continued whining and excuses around herself and any others present earned him only vague disgust and outright dislike, another thing for him to moan about. When his behavior became verbally abusive to the staff and guests of the castle, she had turned him out.

"I don't know how, by all the gods and goddesses, you had ended up at the Bastion. I may have to see to your Sanctuary, but I will not tolerate your attitude another minute. I'll be damned if I'm going to live with your whining. The Guardians brought you here, though I have no idea why. Only a fool would claim to understand the reasoning of the gods. If They want you back, I'm sure you will find a way."

How he had fought her! The rapid shift to what was now his battle form had sucked the air from the room, and that was the only thing that had saved her from adding further insult to him by laughing. Even now, the memory brought a chuckle to slip past her lips, and she moved to refill her glass before settling into the soft velvet settee before the bar. She slipped off her shoes, curling her long legs underneath her and tucking her skirt demurely about her legs as she settled in to await his return.

Schezda entered from the east wing, his nostrils flaring slightly as he lifted his muzzle to scent the air. A rough growl sounded deep in his chest, not of threat or warning, simply a sound of displeasure. He would never stoop to something as mundane as a bark. With his sharp claws silent on the smooth tiles of the floor, he moved to his customary place before the roaring fire and settled in.
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Dominic

Cont from Dominic's Rooms


Dominic slipped silently down the stairs, crushing an insane desire to whistle. He took the time as he descended to drink in the sight of the room. Still a marvel, just as it had been before. Immense, but somehow still warm and comforting. As he walked the far length of the room to where the Baroness sat, he felt the hair on the back of his neck rise.

He could feel the wolf's eyes on him, judging him. With a conscious effort he pushed his instinctive reactions away. Damned if he'd react like a cat. He held his head just a bit higher, staring the wolf back in the eyes for a long instant before turning to Telsa with a smile.

"You are indeed a gracious hostess, m'lady, and I thank you for these familiar comforts." "Christ, he thought, why do I always seem to fall back on this Court talk crap with her? That belongs in my Grandfather's day. If I'm going to do this, I have to find my own footing."

His stomach helped him along the way. To change his form took massive amounts of energy, and he was now starving. His stomach complained loudly, not once but twice, much to his embarrassment. He took the opportunity it granted, slipping into a mode he had learned on the island.

"If that job opening is still available, I'd love to talk to you about it." His grin was roguish as he lifted one hand to his stomach. His tone was light and playful, and his eyes sparkled. "Room and board at the magnificent castle Bastion, I believe the deal was, in exchange for... playing my part?"

His stomach responded right on cue, and he had to laugh. It was like everything was falling into place, and even his bodily functions were helping him along. "Whatever that part is, if it comes with a good rare steak, I'm up for it."

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Telsa
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Telsa laughed softly, pleased with the changes she could see so far. Of course, it was early yet, but perhaps he truly had learned something. Very well, she'd see him fed, but first she was going to find out a few things. "I thought that might be the case, you'll find a place set on the terrace soon enough. But first, I have a question."

Shifting about, Telsa swung her legs out in front of her and rested her dainty feet on the floor. "I told you I'd never seen anyone appear here from the islands, not without my guidance. How did you do it, Dominic? That puny little spring couldn't have amounted to much, how did you know it would lead you here?" Piercing blue eyes captured his, and her voice was softly persuasive. "What made you choose that one?" The wolf raised up with her voice, settling back on his haunches and peering as intently at Dominic as his mistress did.
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Dominic

Dominic wasn't sure how to answer her. Indeed, silly as it sounded, the hunger pains gnawing at him were making it very hard to concentrate. So he sighed, and with a careful eye on the wolf that he couldn't help, took a seat across from her on one of the two comfortable leather sofas that helped fill the end of the room before the fireplace.

"That one..." He stopped, thinking it was going to sound ridiculous without the whole story, and he wasn't ready for that yet. He'd let her know that he was ready to admit she was right, and to take his place in the scheme of things. He wasn't ready to bare his soul.

"It was a dream," he said simply with a shrug. It was the truth, very simplified but the truth, and so he told it with ease. "I knew it was more than it seemed. I remembered what you had told me about the Guardians, as you called them. That I came here to the castle in the first place because I had a part to play."

Settling into the chair, as well as his own role, Dominic sat back as he continued. "If it was just a matter of being granted Sanctuary, I would have been delivered straight to an island." He stretched his long legs out in front of him and kept talking, and all the while his stomach complained about the delay. "But if these Guardians wanted me here, then they had to help me get back. I suppose they knew I was ready."

He shrugged again, and even managed to pull off an unconcerned glance at the wolf. When his eyes moved back to Telsa, he smiled his best smile and let his eyes sparkle. "I really couldn't tell you more than that, Baroness."

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Telsa
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"Doubtful," she thought with as she raised one delicately arched eyebrow, though she said nothing. "They do Their work, that is the important thing. That, and you are ready to take on your role here, whatever it may be."

Telsa sincerely hoped it was to be a good role. She had argued hard that Dominic could have a shot at redemption, if he'd work for it. She had believed that then, and still did now. Her instincts had guided her well over the years. Rising up, she smoothed her skirt and smiled. "Go and enjoy your meal, Dominic. Get settled. I have an engagement today, but I'll see you again soon. We'll talk more."
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Dominic

Dominic rose as she did, his good manners ingrained as habit. "I look forward to it, Baroness." He knew when he was being dismissed. It took effort, something in the back of his head was hissing for all it was worth, but he managed to turn his back on the wolf and leave the room. He passed through a doorway and headed for the ballroom and the terrace beyond.
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Telsa
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Telsa watched him go, noting Schezda's reaction more closely than Dominic's actual exit through the tapestry covered doorway to the east wing. The wolf's gaze was just as harsh as it had ever been where Dominic was concerned, but he'd made no teasing snap in his direction, no warning growl that she'd come to interpret as "Cat, get off the furniture." Very encouraging, and she flashed the wolf a smile before moving herself. First she slipped her feet back into her shoes, bending to pull the tiny straps up about her slender ankles. The simple crystal glass was left on the bar, and without another word she moved to her rooms where she would prepare to leave the castle.


Cont in Telsa's Rooms
Edited by Telsa, Jun 26 2012, 01:36 PM.
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Dominic

Cont from the Grounds

The massive great room was empty, fire burning merrily at the far end, candles adding a soft golden glow scattered about the room. Dominic wondered how he was going to keep himself occupied, considered the library but found the thought did little to inspire him. A drink would do to begin, he decided, and with that in mind he began to make his way down the length of the room. He was taking careful stock of the bottles tucked away under the free-standing bar when the Baroness called his name.

"Dominic, we need to talk,"

He looked up and watched as she descended the curving staircase, then from the corner of his eye saw that Esther was entering the room from the west wing, and Thomas from the other direction. Instead of reaching for the bottle of wine that had been his target, Dominic shifted his hand and instead brought a bottle of Scotch to set atop the bar. Something told him he might need it.
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Telsa
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In her hand Telsa held the bound report and an envelope. She spoke first to Thomas, the one member of the mortal staff serving Sanctuary who had free access to come and go as needed. She handed him the report, speaking softly. "See this information is distributed to our people, return the original to me as quickly as you can. Esther," she turned to the woman. Esther saw to the running of the household. She had been born in Sanctuary, had worked in the Bastion from an early age, and had held her current position for near forty years. "See that we are well stocked, let Thomas know of anything we might need."

Finally she turned her gaze to Dominic where he stood behind the bar. Her eyes were hard as granite, shining jet black in the pale porcelain perfection of her face. Her words were short, clipped with her anger and touched with the power of her age. "And this is for you." With a well-aimed toss, she sent the light envelope that was addressed to Dominic sailing through the air the short distance to land squarely on the bar's gleaming black surface.

Telsa's eyes blazed, a flash of garnet deep in jet stone, as she turned to stalk towards the warmth of the blazing fire. Flames of amber and emerald reflected in her eyes. "It seems we are fated to share an enemy with the Dark Dreamer."
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Dominic

Dominic's world spun, froze, then narrowed down to the seal on the envelope. He dared not breath, as if one wrong move might dissolve the mark of House Skallagrimson and replace it with a cruel joke. Vaguely, he heard the Baroness speak, but as his hand rose trembling to the envelope the rest of the world melted away around him. Anticipation was a sharp knife that rode with ghastly smoothness down his spine, and at last he slipped his finger under the seal and carefully broke it open.

Emotions played across Dominic's face as he read, after a first almost furtive glance out from under the thick shock of soft black hair that fell over his face. Hope flared, light and beautiful, and even the first stirring of pride to straighten his back and square his shoulders. Even with a written word, the charisma and power of the Dark Dreamer flowed through to him, firing a part of his soul he'd feared long lost.

As he read on, Dominic's green eyes narrowed, his shoulders shifting slightly again, imparting a feline cast that he would never have acknowledged, much less allowed had he been aware. Dawning inspiration slipped subtly into rabid determination, and his green eyes glowed with jewel-bright fanaticism as he lifted his gaze and focused on the Baroness.

"You are honored, my Lady." His voice slipped out soft, undercut with the cold of steel. As his hands folded the letter and slipped it back into the envelope he stepped around the bar. His eyes never left Telsa, and his tone never changed. "What would you have me to do, Baroness? I am your shield, to command as you wish. I am quite familiar with Thorison.". She registered no surprise, a fact that he noted without much surprise of his own. "He is a stain on the world, and to be united with the Wolf Prince in such a worthy goal is an honor.". He crossed him arms before him. "But Thorison is most devious, Baroness, we must use all caution to ensure that you are kept safe."
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Telsa
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Telsa turned to face him, one delicately arched eyebrow lifted and her full red lips twisted into a smile full of wicked amusement. "Have no worries. I have kept myself safe for longer than you have been alive, child. And 'tis not my own safety that is paramount, but that of Sanctuary."

Stepping around him to the bar she filled two glasses from the bottle he had retrieved. "You'll need to read the information he sent, catch up on Thorison's latest activities." She held one glass out to him, watching him closely. "Jimsonweed will return soon."
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Jimson

Jimsonweed took his time walking to the Great Room. His steps were slow deliberate and quite so as not to disturb the atmosphere of peace that seemed to pervade the place. Taking in the smooth faces of the stone and the other less than obvious signs of dedicated craftsmanship he let his mind wander over the memories of his many years in this place. Part of him was surprised to acknowledge that most were good. There were trying times of course and often the boredom became almost as unbearable as the feeling that you had no choice in your own future but the larger portion of the memories were pleasant.

It was in this contemplative mind that he came on Dominic and Telsa. Before saying anything he set his coat, gloves and hat on the nearest chair and dropped the spare holster and weapon on a side table knowing it would be picked up and removed to the armory in good time. He figured this would be the one place where the weapon would do no harm unless it was necessary. Ignoring Dominic he looked up at Telsa and grave her a respectful nod before finally speaking.

"Hello Dearest, It's been a while."
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Telsa
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"Indeed, love." Her voice quiet, Telsa's smile softened as she turned her attention to Jimsonweed. Silently the doorway hidden in the shadows of the curving stairway opened and Thomas entered the room. He nodded respectfully at Jimsonweed as he crossed the floor to Telsa. "Copies are being distributed now, M'Lady." He handed her the report on Thorison and with her murmured thanks he then turned to leave.

"Interesting reading," she commented, stepping around Dominic and moving towards the gunslinger. "Apparently we are fated to share an enemy with the Dark Dreamer, and he seems to have reason to believe that this Thorison will try to gain access to Sanctuary." She held out the report to him, her voice dropping lower. "It is good to see you again. I trust your business in town went as you hoped?"
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Dominic

Dominic drank deeply from the glass, his deep green eyes narrowed slightly as he realized that Jimson had indeed arrived. He steeled himself, knowing this would be another test. He was determined to keep to his newly chosen path, to show them both that he had changed, that he was worthy of the redemption that the Wolf Prince spoke of in his letter. Finally he turned, raising his glass in Jimson's direction. A silent salute, for he kept his mouth shut. He'd not give the other man fodder for his cruelty.
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Jimson

With a shrug he took the papers and began to flip through them. " Ten dead bodies and an eleventh in the works, so no, nowhere near as well as I had hoped." came his casual response. The smile he gave to Telsa was half hearted. " I wasn't shot so it's not the worse day I've ever had."

The movement in the corned of his eye caught his attention and the smile that crossed Jimson's face as he turned to look at Dominic was genuine, but far from nice. The bright blue of his eyes practically burned as he looked the man up and down.

"Oh Hello Dominic." He said with a sneer. "I thought I smelled a pussy."
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Dominic

Deep golden fire flashed in Dominic's green eyes. The barb was razor sharp, aimed well for most effect, and meant to goad. He tucked his head down between his shoulders, glaring at Jimsonweed.

Several similar retorts leapt to the end of his tongue, but Dominic kept his mouth closed. He'd been on the receiving end of this man's wrath before and had no desire to place himself there once again. A child's voice played in his mind. "Stick and stones may break my bones..." For an instant the grief was almost overwhelming, and ine hand clenched into a tight fists at his side, while the other grew white-knuckled on his glass.

Dominic remembered his promise, and held his head taller. Always before the taunts had two effects. The least common one was to send him into a screeching fit. One of the most humiliating things about his curse, as his anger overcame him he seemed to become more cat-like and most definitely not in a good way. For a moment he burned with shame, remembering that he'd actually clawed Jimsonweed in the face at one point. But he had to pull a crooked smile as well, that moment had had a few shining seconds.

If he hadn't react with anger, he'd sulked. Oh, and that was far worse. Those memories burned, it was physically painful to admit to himself that he'd acted that way. Those times were the worst. The worst in his memories for how they made him feel, the worst times he'd gotten his ass kicked. It seemed that his anger sparked Jimsonweed, and several others he'd met over these long years, to retaliate just enough to put him in his place. But the sulking, and the whining; no, that touched off some deeper nerve in them. That brought out contempt of the deepest measure, and those times it seemed the fights might never end, or only end with the loss of his life.

So, for the sake of his promise, it was time to try something different.

Ok, so it still might mean he got his ass kicked. Maybe he could avoid getting shot, that was just plain painful. But this time was going to be different. It wouldn't be because of his whining, pitiful little me attitude; and while he supposed he was letting Jimsonweed lead him around by the nose, or whiskers as the case may be, at least it was on his terms this time. No blind rage, and no petulant whining as he tried to sulk away.

Deliberately, he let his eyes drift from Jimsonweed and linger briefly, insolently, on the Baroness before returning. "That's what brought you running home?" Crossing his arms over his chest and managing a wicked grin, Dominic continued. "Wasn't sure you thought she was worth the effort."
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Telsa
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Telsa screeched as she leapt, the words archaic and indistinguishable in her rage. A bitter sharp smell wafted through the room as her glass smashed against the cool tile of the floor. The speed of her age took her to Dominic in less than a second, the strength of her kind lifted him from his feet in just less than that. 'Ye dona caithor," she breathed, her eyes afire with scarlet rage as she shook him roughly, her petite alabaster hands wrapped in the front of his shirt. Another crash as Dominic's glass shattered, dropped from nerveless fingers and splashing Scotch across her as it fell.

"Ye dare bring me into ye're little pissing contest? I should throw ye to 'im right now, ye'd make a fine snack for 'is return home." With little care or caution, she threw him to the floor and stood over him. The air stirred around her, the magic of the Bastion reacting to her sudden rage. From the dark stones of the castle, tiny sparks of crimson light flashed from deep within and the flames in the hearth fired higher, deep amber and brilliant orange flashing blood red.

Finally Telsa stepped back, her eyes still blazing but some of the tension slipping away from the air around her. Her gaze was still on Dominic when she spoke, her voice smoother and much, much colder. "We've more important matters to tend than childish games." Her gaze shifted to take in Jimsonweed as well. All the centuries fell deep in her indigo eyes, and though her skin was marble smooth and her body taunt and fine with youth, still her age sat clearly in her regal stance. 'I will trust you gentlemen settle your differences before I return, or kill one another and save me the trouble."

Turning on her heel, she moved with quick sharp steps from the room towards her private rooms in the west wing of the castle. The sharp heels of her boots clicked clacked on the cool tile of the floor, a clear sign of the anger that still boiled away inside her.


Telsa cont in her rooms
Edited by Telsa, Jul 13 2012, 03:17 PM.
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Jimson

Standing there with the unwavering sneer and another barb ready to leave his lips Jimsonweed was caught off guard by Telsa's reaction. He stepped back realizing that now was not the time to interfere. Not on Dominic's behalf or Telsa's.

His gaze shifted from one to the other and he smiled. This was just another reminder that she could hold her own. Not a reminder she made on purpose just a reminder. A little side note in the fabric of reality that read in bright clear letters.

-She could kill us all if she wanted to.-

It was something he had always found attractive about her.

He watched her as she made her way out of the great hall and tried to gauge her current state of mind. He took a few steps towards Dominic's prone form then held out his free hand to help him up.

"I swear you must have some kind of wheel of stupid running in your head, every decision you make seems to be worse than the last." He said with a grin. "But at least you've grown a pair of balls that's commendable." His eye lit up strangely as he continued. "Now I'm gonna give you a weapon and see if you're smart enough never to use it. The first time she saw me in a year was tonight, and I was sitting in the park with another woman."
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