|
Post by Iole on Mar 26, 2009 1:43:31 GMT -5
Please. Old cat-eyes never had anything on me.
::She uses her fingers to flip her long ponytail in a very seductive fashion::
But I'll admit you didn't turn out half bad. You look a lot like your old ma--
::She cuts off again, remembering how touchy a subject his father was with him. So she quickly changes topics::
So before all this started, had you heard from Lillith? I mean, when was the last time you were at the Garden? Last I saw you was at her wedding. It was the summer after your birthday party.
|
|
|
Post by Oliver on Mar 26, 2009 1:51:10 GMT -5
Oliver runs his hand through his hair as he thinks. "She stopped by once, on me twelfth birthday but tat was the last time I saw her in person. Wit Kenny and the kid an all, don blame her. Besides, I was doin well. Worked at a printers here in ta Crest, type-setting. Taught me ta read, them and te book ye gave me." He chuckles. "S'ent many days an night tri'n ta get through page af'er page. Mus of read te thing nine or ten times till I cou'd really unders'and it." He smiles once more. "Its spine is well bent."
He stops talking for a moment to look down the street. "Wan te see ta old flat? I changed it up some since ye were last here." He offers her his arm, this time in a friendly and gentlemanly fashion.
|
|
|
Post by Iole on Mar 26, 2009 1:56:45 GMT -5
::Iole rolls her eyes, but loops her arm through his none the less::
Lead on.
::Though she tries not to show it, she's caught offguard at the thickness and stiff tone of his arm now. It didn't seem too long ago when she could wrap her hand all the way around it. Had she really been able to carry him on her back? That seemed almost impossible now if she were in her human form::
|
|
|
Post by Oliver on Mar 26, 2009 2:12:11 GMT -5
He chuckles. "Well I could drag ye like before!"
They walk down the familiar street, seeing the old stoops, no different then they were before. Then they arrive at the most familiar of all stoops, the one leading to building where Oliver lives. Its edifice has gone through some renovation and, upon entering, Iole can see that its interior has improved as well. It's still old but least its clean and no longer falling into decay.
Up the stairs and to the familiar door, Oliver opens it and lets Iole enter first. Once her eyes adjust, she can see the place has taken on a different, more vibrant feel of life. The hallway from the door is lined with the photographs of Oliver and his mother, the same ones Adrian had given him. Oliver's old room is still his old room, just with a new bed and a number of books scattered about. His mother's old room has now been turned into some sort of study with a few comfy chairs and a small circular table. On the wall inside there is are two portraits, one of the same man whose image is plastered upon the bulletin boards on the streets. A tiny plaque below it reads Commitsar Reynard. Beside it, facing toward the Commitsar, is another portrait of man, a bearded older man, its plague reads Grachino Marks.
Down the hall, to the kitchen, Iole comes upon a sight she may not enjoy. The kitchen has been turned into a veritable chem lab, a chem lab for explosives. Containers, beakers, bags and boxes litter the space. On one table, a workstation, there rests a half-completed bomb, sitting like a menacing demon waiting to strike.
"Have a seat!" Oliver calls from the doorway as he shuts it behind him. He quickly takes off his coat, gloves and scarf, and sets them beside the door. He's shirtless now, his thin frame displaying a chiseled exterior. Through the fur there are some marks of scarring, some look very old but a few, a few are no more then a couple months old. He walks quickly into his bedroom and reemerges in a plain-s**t and walks into the kitchen. "Wan'anyting ta drink? Got some juice or water."
|
|
|
Post by Iole on Mar 26, 2009 2:18:34 GMT -5
It's alright, I'm not thirsty.
::She takes the seat at the kitchen table::
So who are they? The men on the posters I mean.
|
|
|
Post by Oliver on Mar 26, 2009 2:34:13 GMT -5
"Oh, guess ye really don know wats goin'on." Oliver states as he grabs a bottle of juice and pours himself a glass before taking a seat at the same table.
"Te one on te left is Grachino Marks, te man who had the dream of a 'people's state'. He's ta one tat gave all us here in ta Crest and other workers ta dream an idea to see ourselves no longer be just a tool or rusty cog of the aristocracy's machine." He takes a sip the glass then stands up quickly. "One second." He jets off down the hallway to his coat, rummages through it, then returns. A small reddish book in his hand. He sets it on the table near Iole. "Tat's his essay's and papers. Don'go onto streets without it. Here, take an read it. I got a few copies, keep them horded."
He takes another sip from the glass and before he finishes his gulp he starts talking again. "One on te right is Commitsar Reynard, ta man tat is gona see Marks' vision fulfilled. He's ta one commanding te LPA's actions an is head of the CWP. Witout him, dunno if ta people here would of rallied... well except for Sid, guy is adamant on seein Marks' dream come true. First one of us ta take up arms, he was."
|
|
|
Post by Iole on Mar 26, 2009 2:56:03 GMT -5
I'm not sure I like Sid. He seems kind of gruff. But we didn't exactly meet in the best setting.
::She perouses through the pages of the little red book he gave her, and she can't really deny that Marks had some good ideas in his lifetime. But she's not sure what he'd make of the way his successor is going about things::
Sorry I need to be filled in. Freya isn't really the best place for news. They don't even have TV there yet. I see you're keeping yourself pretty well informed. But...
::she points to one of the books she noticed on the counter; a book with a brown leather binding and gold lettering on the title reading; True Story of Gaea’s Gilded Age: An Unabridged History.::
Really? Where did you pick that one up? You know it's a crock.
|
|
|
Post by Oliver on Mar 26, 2009 3:05:46 GMT -5
Oliver turns around. "Ah! Tat one." He shifts back to face Iole. "When ta Regent went on his book burning binge, the CWP grabbed as many books as we cou'd before the Guards showed. I got all kinds of weird ones around here. Tat one might be a crock, but all books are worth something. No book should be burned."
He chuckles then, thinking back to what Iole said about Sid. "Don worry about Sid, he's a great guy an good friend. Saved me tail more times ten I can count, true, math an me still aren't tat good. Jus, he's really focused when out in ta field. Hey, reminds me! Tonight we're headin for one of the CWP meetins, ye should come! Meet some of ta others fightin. Maybe ye can even get Captain Connolly's story out of him, tat be an accomplishment."
"So..." He looks down at his nearly empty glass. "How has Freya been? Wat ye been up too these last few years? Bet ye got some good stories."
|
|
|
Post by Iole on Mar 26, 2009 3:10:56 GMT -5
::Iole sighs::
It's a lot like here. Just war and more war. The Sun Elves and the Moon Elves are still tense, The Dark Elves are in anarchy, and the wastelands are restless. Some of the upper level demons have been vying for power since Auntie's not there to maintain control anymore. I like to stay with the Wood Elves though. They're the most peaceful tribe, and some of them know how to turn into animals like I can.
|
|
|
Post by Oliver on Mar 26, 2009 3:15:15 GMT -5
Oliver nods, then chuckles a little when she talks about the Wood Elves and animal transformation. "I always was jealous of ye for tat ability."
Emily, resting on her perch in the corner of the kitchen, makes a little chirp.
"Heh, see, she knows!" Oliver pauses for a moment, looking a little awkward about what he is going to ask. "So, uhh, ever fin someone? Got a boyfriend or anytin?"
|
|
|
Post by Iole on Mar 26, 2009 3:25:13 GMT -5
::Iole holds out her hand and lets Emily hop onto her palm, using her other hand to stroke her crown::
Orlando. He's an Elven prince who took me for a ride on his white stallion. He's got these gorgeous green eyes and this head of long blond hair.
::She giggles a little at his reaction::
I'm kidding. I can't stand royalty, much less fall for one. In fact the only guy I consistently keep in contact with is Gideon. He's the one that Nyx likes, even if she doesn't know it yet. He looks a little like Jas. He says he knew my Auntie, but he doesn't have very nice things to say about her. I personally don't know what she sees in him.
|
|
|
Post by Oliver on Mar 26, 2009 3:34:17 GMT -5
Oliver shoots Iole a disgruntled, yet light-hearted, sneer. "Orland? Bes ye can come up wit!? Sounds like a poofter ta me!"
He listens as Iole carries on about Nyx's interest in this Gideon. "Dunno him, do I?" He thinks for a moment. "No guess not. Seems we both have had some interest'in times in our worlds. An'ya, I have'in real'y met anyone either. I had some girls but would'n say tat tey were 'friends'. Maybe cause I don have any white sta'lion ta come riding in on! I shou'd borrow 'Orlandos'' horse." He playfully sticks his tongue slightly out to Iole and then smiles.
|
|
|
Post by Iole on Mar 26, 2009 3:40:38 GMT -5
::Iole chuckles::
If you want the truth, Orlando's the scrawny pockmarked son of some noblemen I happened to visit. Poor kid is totally hot for me, and can't except that I'm way out of his league. So I had to show him my dragon face. I think that turned him off for good. So are any of these "friends" going to be at the meeting tonight?
|
|
|
Post by Oliver on Mar 26, 2009 3:47:46 GMT -5
Oliver shakes his head no. "Nah, well... Violette might be tere if she ain't on some assignment." He shudders a little, its hard to tell if its a negative or positive reaction to the name. "Tat woman is somtin else. Don wanna piss her off tho, tats for sure. Black Widow 'ike no other."
|
|
|
Post by Iole on Mar 26, 2009 15:28:02 GMT -5
::Iole's eyebrow twitches at the comment Oliver makes about Violette, but she supresses it quickly::
So when's the meeting?
|
|
|
Post by Oliver on Mar 26, 2009 15:57:10 GMT -5
*Knock, knock knock*
"Rig't now." Exclaims Oliver. "Come in!" He yells down the hall, the knocks at the door keep coming. "Come... oh for ta-" He gets up from the chair and heads to the. "Is open!"
The door opens and in steps Sid, looking a bit dusty and smelling of gun-powder. "Hope I'm not disturbing anything?"
Oliver eyes him chagrinly. "You'd 'ike tat would'in ye?"
Sid smiles and chuckles. "Vhy I asked."
Oliver turns around, rolling his eyes and returns to the kitchen with Sid right behind. "Well, how about a proper intraduc'ion, Iole Blakeney tis is Huber Sidorenko. Make fun of ta name as much as you like, we all do."
"Hah hah. So you coming tonight or are you two 'busy'?"
"We're comin, don ye worry about tat. Say, wat was ta deal wit te bombing earlier?"
"Nother Sploder went off, Regent blamed us again an attacked."
Oliver shakes his head in frustration. "Sploders..."
"Ya, the captain vants to speak to us after the meet'in. Sounds 'ike vere counter attacking tomorrow. Might take Gin Street finally."
"Bout time." Oliver turns to Iole. "Ready ta go?"
|
|
|
Post by Iole on Mar 26, 2009 17:22:27 GMT -5
::Iole is about to say something concerning Sid's uncalled for innuendo, but dismisses it when she hears the word "sploder". It must be code for something::
Yeah, I guess. Would I need to dress up for this, or am I fine going with what I have on?
|
|
|
Post by Oliver on Mar 26, 2009 17:38:01 GMT -5
"Ye fine, here, I got to grab sometins. Why don ye and Sid talk for'a few." With that Oliver heads to his room.
Sid stands there in the kitchen, looking neither comfortable or awkward, just oddly there, like a statue. "So... still got a ringin in your ears? You knov, that 'eeeeee'. That's the sound of the ear cells dying, like their svan song. Once it's gone you'll never hear that frequency again. Enjoy it vhile it lasts."
|
|
|
Post by Iole on Mar 26, 2009 17:49:46 GMT -5
::Iole folds her arms::
I'm familiar with the ringing. I've seen war before. It's just a lot different now. It looks like war has changed since I've been gone.
|
|
|
Post by Oliver on Mar 26, 2009 17:54:44 GMT -5
Sid grins, he appears enticed by her response. "Yea, vell vhen you got a handful of civilians up against an army vith unlimited resources, you have to change things up tad. So you've fought before? Vhat vars?"
|
|