Forums » Fantasy Roleplay » Trip to the Temples(1x1)

Chiara is curious by nature, "Do you mind me asking why not?" It's not like he had to answer, so what was the harm in asking? "Oh...could I hear it sometime?" She had already said she enjoyed music. "She must be sad..." Chiara knew she was upset about Draeval, and it showed on her face. She hadn't been thinking about him for the past little while since she'd been busy, but now that wave of sadness over his death hit her full force.

He shrugged. "I found no due interest in it when the first King... Volunteered his Dukes for himself. I need not impose pain on others in such, and I've never seen it do anything fruitful. Beyond that, I reproduce asexually, so it serves no logical purpose to me." hence, his frozen bed. The rest still drew his chuckles from him as he led her back down the shoreline towards the dimensional door. "I doubt it. She tried to kill him as often as she tried to save him. She dreamed of making him a 'good man'. Instead, she stripped a piece of him away and settled on that. But that... Is a long story for another time."

Chiara was a little confused, "Pain?" She'd shake her head, "I guess I assumed your reproductive organs were humanoid like the rest of you." Well, that was blunt, but Chiara usually was. The asexual reproduction made everything make way more sense now, and she'd laugh quietly, "I think most people just do it because it feels good. Logic doesn't really come into play."

She's showing confusion about Zenthus' wife, and she didn't really understand that, so she kept quiet about it. He hadn't responded about the music either, which was disappointing to her, but she was glad she had her ipod. That would work until it ran out of batteries at least.

"They were similar." 'were'? "I can show it to you when we get back to the lair, if you like." woah, slow down there buddy. From anyone else that'd seem way too foward. He didn't have any such inflection, however. Just matter-of-factly. "It was mostly assigned due to masculine mental alignment." Random fact. as for the music, it would be shown by action. The door opened once more, and another short walk put them in the lair's base. "You may wish to scend for sunset or rise. I may loathe this sun but he is glorious at birth and death." he cut through to the floor's center, then... Paused. "Now where did I put it...?" he still carried his basket, but let out a disgruntled sound. "Kitchen. Let us pick up before we retire to music and study." the kitchen was... simple. Old woodburning stoves had pipes disappearing into the ceiling. Long counters filled the large room, some housing cabinets. A large table at the center was where he put down his basket. He pointed at a large, square upright rectangle. "There's --

--the ice box for anything you need to freeze solid, but the rest could keep." yeah, as his whole place was a fridge. He did pull out his chocofruit to head to the fridge with it. "Tell me a few hours before you want to eat, and I'll summon a chef." now... to find his musicmaker.

Chiara just blinked at him, "Were?" She's honestly confused by him, "Um...sure?" What was he disfigured now or something? She really had no idea. She would follow along, "That would be nice." She was typically up early anyway, though she didn't know how well she would sleep in a new place. She enjoyed the kitchen, and she'd probably put her chocofruit in with his, since she'd noticed they were the same.

She's enjoying the sight and smell of the kitchen, and she'll nod to his request, "Alright. Thank you again...you're going to a lot of trouble for me." She felt a little bad, but it was nice to get away from home for a couple of days. She's probably shivering again though, "Before that, can I change?" Yeah, sundress in Qinglau's house was probably not a good idea.

"It's no trouble." he looked about the largely abandoned ovens, pulling out a handful of charcoal and dropping it into a solid metal pan. "I've found this cave hollow lately; my youngest is busy with his resort and my middle... Well, he's hard to invite anywhere." as he's a treedoorthing. A lid covered it, and in a moment without oven influence it let out a flashfire from the sides. Quickly it smoldered down, and he headed towards the bedroom, sliding it between mattresses. "I'll keep it warm through the night. Still thawed, it seems." he pushed on the sheets, which... weren't frozen now. She asked to change. "Of course." ...pause. "Oh. I should ..." he adjusted his lenses and walked out. He could dig through storage while she was gone. thankfully the machine was large, and thus easy to find. She could probably hear it sliding over the floor as she changed. By the time she stepped out, she should hear violin matching piano and flute in an extended opening, with some odd device looking like a metal arm --

--turning the handle and powering the machine while he went to and fro, sliding a table into the main room. It looked solid and oaken, but seemed to move without effort.

"Resort?" She'd follow along, "Well, feel free to visit my cabin anytime. It's usually just me and the animals out there." She was feeling sad again, but she was trying not to let it show. He takes care to make sure the bed stays warm, "Thank you."

She'd already been pulling her stuff out to change and when he goes to leave she shrugs. She'll pull some warm sweatpants on under her dress, and then she'll unzip the dress and pull on a black hoodie that was large on her. She didn't care if he saw or not, her bra covered up more than her swimsuit. Once she's done, she'll follow the sound of the music out to where he was, "It's lovely."

Lyrics began softly, -every night darkness creeps into my mind as i lay down to sleep,- matching in quiet delivery to the plucking melody, "I prefer the harp version in many ways, but the violin draws out a greater power as it progresses. He was a bard as much as he was a priest. He simply didn't explore that facet of himself as much as he aged." the young male voice in the background traded off with an equally young woman, less certain of herself on the stage but all the more fitting as she spoke of walls closing in, entering the field of dreams. The piano echoed outward delving deeper into the melody, taking foreground as the pair dueted, -where only you and i belong;- henceforth their lines traded off. Crimson fields lit in the sun, laced so finely by the silver rose--i dream of fire.- the words clearly held some poetic significance to the singers, building in dynamic and presentation where even the uncertain female gained confidence in the presence of her peer. Meanwhile, qinglau went to and fro, --

--transporting beakers and phials and other tools to the table. She had wanted chemistry, right? "...it's nice to have a somewhat sane lab assistant." Stuckley had been... Questionable. "And yes, he runs a... Vacationing spot for entities of our creed. Our race, as you have it. Not much good for humans, but the services keep myself and... My late boy in order. Kept. Although I ask for delivery. His maids act oddly in my presence."

Chiara enjoyed the song, "Well if I'm here long enough, maybe I could hear the other versions?" She'd stick her hands in her hoodie pocket, and she'd move over to the table, "It's nice to be here...to think about something else for a little while..." She was still upset about Draeval, so he could nom on that all he wanted. "Sounds interesting...probably nothing like what a humans vacation spot would be..." She's remembering the last week she got to spend with Draeval, and her mood sinks again. She'll clear her throat and jump on a change of topic, "Odd how?"

"I'm sure we'll have time for others. I'd prefer to mix in local music." but for now, a chemistry set was in order. "...I'll be teaching an extended alchemical version today, if you don't mind. I have a different, extended version of the periodic table from what I've seen of your world." but for now, beakers and trying not to singe eyebrows off. "Different is the word. I... Don't imagine you'd want to see it." or at least not be around him after seeing it. ((now... The player is nowhere near as smart as the character so uh... feel like time skipping the lesson to a transition point of your choice? Maybe dinner. Or an accident. Or both.))

Chiara was a fairly fast learner, but sadly she is still a science n00b. She's going to accidentally mix the wrong things together, and hopefully Qinglau catches that in time before she blows herself up. He's probably shielding her, and Chiara is looking quite startled, "Maybe...I should take a break for a snack....." She's setting down whatever she has in her hands at the time very carefully, at the very least his poor table is probably singed.

What makes him blind in many respects gives a boost in others. The building volatility of the concoction was met with a flicker of energy. The explosion met a freshly forming wall, which looked like ice which shattered shortly after the impact, by which time he tried to pull her in. His sleeves had ruptured, revealing scaly wings he wrapped around her just in case the instant shield wasn't enough. But aside from his table, all was well. He adjusted his glasses. "The mind does work better after a healthy meal." he... cleared his throat and... straightened his torn cuffs. "Lifemaster, come." he called, and... well, facing the table, the entity appeared over the steaming remnants--first as a dusky cloud, and then as golden fireflies dancing upward before fading away, as new ones birthed. This voice... was far more mature, truly masculine and resounded from the cloud, -Yes, my king?- "I have a guest, who needs a meal. A normal, human meal. I found some ingredients I recognized you using, but need your help in--

--arranging them." the cloud loomed in absolute silence, even for several moments after the command. -Yes, sir. ... ... ... May I ask why you have human company?- much less that he needs to serve? "No, you may not." he turned to glance at Chiara. "Is there any particular food you might request, aside from what we've gathered? He is the finest." which was probably why the moving cloud, slowly coalescing into a man that wandered towards the kitchen, was grumbling in some lost tongue. Qinglau scolded, "Zom!" ...and silence.

Hopefully Qinglau wouldn't think less of her for her little mistake. She was still learning! She's distracted by his wings and she'd try and touch one unless he pulled them away quickly. Soon her attention is taken by the being Qinglau had called, "Hello!" She seemed polite enough, she just didn't understand why everyone seemed to be so against humans. "Oh...no. My late husband was really in charge of all the meals...he was the creative one when it came to the kitchen."

Zom wanders off, and Chiara lowers her voice to speak with Qinglau, "Does your race not get along with...humans?" It was the only thing she could really think of, "If he doesn't want to cook for me he doesn't have to. I could...try and figure something out..." Well that's one way to make her a better cook, learn or starve Chiara!

"Humans could be called a prey animal to many." he spoke forthright. "And he will do as I ask of him. I have given him enough freedoms elsewhere." The shattered ice pieces stood at attention as he moved his hands, collecting and forming an icy table to replace the wooden shards laying beneath it. "Many see human lives as toys, among us. I more find you to be creatures of interest." he flexed his arms, causing folding of the revealed wings. The scaling was a rough blue, almost hazardous. Rub it the wrong way and it might cut. They folded back in, leaving the clothing torn. "Hn... That will need to reknit." his outdoor wear was not manifest, but truly woven for discretion. For the time, he simply... Peeled it off without second thought. He wasn't particularly self conscious, even if he appropriately had the body of a (healthy and trim, at least) 60 year old man, skin occasionally patched at sorriasis points in the scaling. The show was brief, as a shimmering fabric replicated ocean waves before solidifying, --

--seeming not entirely solid as it shimmered, falling long to an ankle length robe which soon wrapped in at the waist, over the trousers that still sat beneath. The first shirt? Folded loosely. The music looped in the background, drawing complaint, -Must we listen to that right now?- Qinglau twinged, sneaking over to his machine and removing the needle from the disc, muting the singers which had paraded through different instrumental versions. He had lost sight of it during work. It was replaced by blomsfuld orchestra.

Chiara wasn't feeling his wings too much, and she wasn't rubbing at them, she just touched them. "I see...well, I'm glad you don't feel that way." He's changing, and she's not being polite and looking away or anything, she's just continuing on with the conversation. "That's a handy skill. Sometimes I wish I had magic." Well, she did kind of, but she didn't go around advertising the fact. She knew it could get her into trouble.

Zom doesn't want to listen to the music, and Chiara's confused, "What's wrong with it?" She had been enjoying it, even if it was just background noise.