2010 September 03
Retired
General Info |
Enter ChanticleerMany years ago... Roy was young, but not as young as he seemed. To the untrained eye, he was perhaps twenty-three. In reality, he was thirty. Like many Taps, he'd aged somewhat normally through adolescence and his teens, but then it began to slow. It wasn't anything he could really enumerate. It wasn't six months for every year or four months or eight. It was just... slower. And the older he got, the more it seemed to slow. He suspected that he was going to live probably past a hundred... if he didn't get himself killed in what he had planned. Today, Baton Rouge has taken the place of New Orleans as the queen city of the Mississippi Delta mostly because the Delta has moved so far inland. The divine and vulgar, the beautiful and grotesque have all moved north; only salvagers and savages inhabit the ruins of cities around Lake Pontchartrain. Since it is one of the few safe crossings of the broad and temperamental Mississippi river, the City of the Red Sceptre has developed into a major hub of transcontinental travel. It is watched over currently by King Roy, descendant of no royalty whatsoever, who carved out his rulership using cunning, diplomacy and not a few clandestine killings. King Roy's public face is one of debonair sophistication and generosity. In private, he is more ruthless. He wants his city to prosper and grow. Because he is not stupid and he has enemies, the king has a personal bodyguard. Because he knows that his city prospers on the reputation it took from New Orleans all those years ago, his personal guards are always somewhat unusual. Be they albino, fae, Taps or what have you, they always stand out. King Roy is also rather enchanted with Chanticleer - or at least the idea of him. The human didn't simply hire the fae for his exotic looks; he also had Chanticleer audition. The fight was spectacular, and the king loves the idea of having a sidhe knight at his back. He doesn't actually know what that means. Chanticleer is wearing human armor as he stands a bit to the side of the dais that King Roy -- inwardly the fae has to giggle at the redundancy of that name, and thinks of him privately as RoiRoy -- sits upon. The armor is plain but functional, spruced up a bit with some enamel and paint. It's uncomfortable, though, and heavy; there'd be no way he'd wear anything like this on Chevrefoil, his riding stag. Still, RoiRoy has enemies, which makes for a much more exciting occupation than he would normally like, and the beaten armor -- a hand-me-down beneath the new enamel -- has helped a few times. And his sword, a curved sabre, is still good. Chanticleer most assuredly, however, does not like wearing this armor. It's mostly leather but there are metal parts to it, particularly the breastplate. There's a layer of leather between him and the steel but he sometimes feels like it's an iron maiden just waiting to spring spikes. Ew. RoyRoi is paying a little extra for him to wear the armor and match his other bodyguards, but Chanti is slowly coming to the decision that no job is worth wearing this much cold iron. Chanticleer wasn't particularly fond of the audition; he appreciates the need to demonstrate ability to a liege- er, to a new employer, but he felt more like he was providing entertainment rather than a demonstration of his skills. He's also well aware of the king's tendency to try to put everyone -- everyone -- off balance and at a disadvantage to him. At first it was a fascinating lesson in cunning, but over time Chanticleer's noticed it as being less cunning and more banal. Little tricks like rearranging appointment times, use of lighting and colors, ranging all the way up to -- or rather down to -- simple brute intimidation. King Roy also takes quite an interest in regular travelers through his city, and he charges a toll. Single travelers can negotiate with the gatekeepers. Caravans, troupes of entertainers, and other wagon trains must negotiate with the King or his representatives. It's because of this rule that Suraksha finds herself having to clean off the trail dust and bring herself into the presence of His Majesty, King Roy. Suraksha doesn't mind cleaning up -- she's fairly fastidious about cleanliness as it is. Playing the diplomatic game is less of a pleasure for her, however, especially since the petty rulers of these little fiefdoms often have the manners of children. Suraksha dresses with care, choosing a fashion that highlights her somewhat exotic looks. She knows that appeals to "King" Roy, and she's willing to use a wide variety of tools to get the effect she wants. When she is dressed and ready to go, she looks magnificent: a shimmering silk sari wraps her small body, and the faint chiming of golden ankle bells accompanies every step. Her green-gold eyes look even larger when outlined with kohl, and her lips are a rich, dark red. Upon arrival at Roy's domicile, she has her white camel kneel, then gracefully accepts a hand as she rises to her feet from the elaborately decorated saddle. She has but one person with her: the PackMaster is large and sturdy and shaggy -- and loyal. He'll keep a good eye on her mount while she's busy indoors. King Roy's court is held in his palace. The compound started out as a stately old antebellum mansion and was added onto from there. Outbuildings and gardens abound. A flock of groundskeepers are employed to keep it exactly the way the king likes it, and the way the king likes it is immaculate. There are birds and animals running loose on the property, giving some of the more forest-like gardens the air of wilderness if one doesn't look too closely. Amongst the animals are deer, elk, wolflike dogs, and a couple of large mountain lions. The dogs and the pumas are kept in enclosures that are more to keep people safe than to safeguard the animals. Suraksha is met at the gate by a chamberlain dressed in crisply pressed livery. He bows to her and says, "Madam. Whom may I say is calling?" Suraksha murmurs with a faint smile, "Please let your master know Sulochana Jyotsana Suraksha Sesha of San Francisco wishes to call upon him." Her doe-eyed smile widens a little as the dogs howl and gallop up and down the edge of their pens, while the mountain lions snarl and scream restlessly from within their artificial lairs. The chamberlain consults a list and purses his lips, "Does madam have an appointment with his majesty?" Suraksha waves a small hand, and multiple bracelets flash and glitter prettily on her wrist. "We are acquaintances of old. It is at his insistence that I call upon him now, before my caravan passes through the city." The chamberlain examines his list, squinting his eyes. He appears to be considering carefully, but Suraksha knows very well that Joe set up this visit ahead of time. He's a very conscientious advance man and his foresight has become more than weather-related over the years. Eventually the chamberlain sighs and says, "Ahh. Here you are. You are late." Suraksha raises an eyebrow and murmurs, "Surely not." The chamberlain looks down at her over the rims of his spectacles, "You are later than His Majesty would like. Still, I suppose you can enter and await His Majesty's pleasure." Suraksha raises an amused eyebrow again, "I think not. I am actually slightly early, according to the appointment my lead-man made. Therefore you may either show me in to my appointment with King Roy, or you may explain to him later, when I return, that you refused me entry." The Chamberlain sniffs disdainfully and turns, "Follow me." Suraksha smiles faintly and does so. She sighs softly; pettiness bores her, and Roy's hirelings are extremely petty. When Suraksha arrives, the king is holding court again, in the old-fashioned way. Petitioners come before the king to present their offers or ask boons or just to say they met with a king. There are musicians playing quiet jazz music in one corner and the lighting is low everywhere but right over the throne and just in front of it and it is a throne one Roy had made especially for this space. Carved of oak and pine and polished to a high shine, it looks down on the room around him. Chanticleer finds it all rather plain and banal, though of course he would never tell RoiRoy that. It's not like a fey court. Still, there's a subdued elegance to it, a simplicity of color and lines that's agreeable in its own way. That's offset by the courtiers with whom King Roy has surrounded himself. The chamberlain steps through the main doors of the throne room with Suraksha on his heels. He waits for a moment when King Roy isn't speaking and uses a felt mallet to ring a small but very resonant bell. The attention of everyone in the room turns to the door and the chamberlain announces in a loud, carrying voice, "Sulochana Jyotsana Suraksha Sesha of San Francisco seeks audience with His Majesty, King Roy of the City of the Red Sceptre." The Red Sceptre itself is hung above the throne. It's wrapped in gold wire and has a brilliant ruby at its tip. The fact that the chamberlain gets her name right hints that he knew it all along. Suraksha smiles faintly again as she glances around... then decides she doesn't feel like waiting. She concentrates a bit, focusing her aura into splendidness, and changes her body language into the faint, not-quite-bored amusement of royalty coming to visit and dutifully and courteously admiring all Roy's pretty toys. Suraksha lets her sex appeal nearly radiate around her. She figures any man who has such a huge, clear phallic symbol hung over him will like that. She paces calmly across the room, her bells chiming lightly in the silence. Her smile widens, and she holds out her hand as she mounts the stairs to the throne, "My dear Roy, how do you do? You are looking in excellent form!" Chanticleer glances to the doorway, then does a double-take, brow arching. Oh, now. She would be right at home in a fey court! The poise, the grace, the body language... and more than just how she carries herself, he sees: the clothing, her eyes, her aura are all magnificent. It takes him a few moments, in fact, to realize she is, in fact, tailoring her aura. This is just an observation, though, and doesn't detract at all from her magnificence. However... he is a bodyguard, even if he's not fond of RoiRoy -- King Roy. So he straightens, remaining alert and glancing around just in case this splendid lady is providing (more than ample) distraction for something else. The King watches Suraksha stalk across the room with clear appreciation. He is ruggedly handsome. In fact, he looks like someone might have drawn him up with that term in mind. Strong face, thick mustache and sideburns, thick wavy hair. Broad shoulders and slim hips. He is dressed in a pair of tailored black slacks and a white poet's shirt that shows off the top of his pectorals. On his feet he wears heavy boots with steel-capped toes. "My lady." He smirks as she comes up the dais, rather than waiting properly. The words come out "Mah lay-dee." "It's wonderful to see you again." 'Won-dah-ful' 'a-gin.' Suraksha beams as he takes her hand, leaning to kiss each cheek in the usual manner for this region. When she straightens she raises an eyebrow and smiles, "So, I heard mention of dinner during our meeting! Were you simply teasing wickedly, or shall I be treated to your company and your cook's truly excellent -- and spicy! -- table fare once more?" Suraksha has always felt some regret that the "ruggedly handsome" ones seem far too keenly aware of it. Roy is indeed pretty... but what a shame he's so ugly inside! She has also taken a careful and lazy-eyed glance around the room as she approached. She's noticed the new acquisition standing behind and to Roy's left, just beside him and behind the throne, as well as a few others. Roy laughs and says, "I'd be delighted if you would, darlin'. He says you're one of the few that challenge his talents. Says it has somethin' to do with your ancestry." The people around the room are the pretty people Roy likes to surround himself with. Besides Chanticleer, there are five other guards. One is on the opposite side of the throne, four others deployed around the room. They all look splendid in their armor and they all look deadly in their way. The men and women here to petition the king, or just to be seen, are dressed in all manner of finery, and they're all whispering about the splendid woman that has appeared. Suraksha chuckles at that, patting Roy's hand before releasing it, "But my dear, he is a joy!" She tilts her head to grin roguishly sideways at the man, waving an expressive hand, "Were he not so pleased to be in your employ, I assure you I would gladly hire him away." She sighs in mock sadness, "So few today understand true spiciness. It's not just adding more jalapenyos, you know? Tsk." There are a couple of non-humans in the room, and Sura knows better than to try and read a big group of courtiers like this she's not likely to get any pleasant surprises. A quick scan around the room shows Suraksha mostly what she expected to see. The guards are mostly very physical types, with their energy coming mostly from the earth and concentrated in the lower chakras. The courtiers are likewise very earth-centered, though the tints of the chakras tell her it has more to do with money than brawn for them. Roy is no surprise, either. Base chakra, sexual chakra, will chakra and his third eye are all very strong. He also has no problem in expressing himself. It's in compassion and connection to spirit that he is dreadfully weak. The new guard, however, is something slightly unexpected. Chanticleer is in his 'real' appearance, that is, as a fey knight less his armor. His skin is clear with a faint iridescent sheen like that of bright feathers. His hair is less like 'hair' and more like iridescent black down, short against his skull. His eyes are a brilliant, vibrant orange, with large pupils very reminiscent of a bird's. His features are rather sharp, as well, and likewise somewhat birdlike. The new guard gleams in Suraksha's senses. He is definitely fey and he is unexpected for one of Roy's guards. Like the brilliant sheen of his skin, the twin serpents of energy twine up and down his spine, flowing very strongly both ways. His will chakra, of course, is quite strong, as is his third-eye. His heart, however, gleams like an emerald to her inner eye this is not your everyday bodyguard. The other guard, a squat, broad creature with black shiny eyes and a heavy pelt of coarse hair, is all base and sex and will. The others are all but dark. Suraksha wonders perplexedly what the tall, slender man is doing in Roy's employ. Maybe he's new? He certainly isn't the usual self-centered boor Roy hires as bodyguard. Roy laughs a laugh that would seem real if one didn't know him better, "I doubt he'd suit your tastes. He's mighty picky about where he sleeps at night, and with whom. But we'd both love to see you at the table tonight." Suraksha rolls her eyes amusedly, "He can sleep consensually with whomever he wishes, as long as he continues that marvelous cooking! I know better than to interfere with artisans at work, after all." Her eyes twinkle as she adds, "I accept, with pleasure!" Leaning slightly to give a confidential tone to her words, she adds, "You know that's why I always have my lead-man make late afternoon appointments, don't you? For the marvelous food!" Roy leans in as well and gives her a roguish smile, "And here I thought it was so you could get an invite to stay the night! Speakin' of, do you need some time to freshen up?" He raises his left hand, motioning Chanticleer forward. Chanticleer suppresses the urge to roll his eyes at Roy's commentary. So unlike a way to court a lady. Though he suspects 'courting' isn't on the man's mind. He jolts himself to alertness, and steps forward at the gesture. Suraksha is far too professional to let her aura slip, but somewhere deep inside she knows that later she'll be ready for a nice hot bath after this. She finds Roy tedious. She raises an amused eyebrow, but courteously says nothing. Roy says, "Sulochana, this is Chanticleer. He'll show you to a guest room and watch your back for you on the way." To Chanti, he says, "You take very good care of this lady. She's a friend of mine." Chanticleer inclines his head in greeting to Suraksha, and walks with her towards her room. He's as alert as he can be; he gets the impression the lady can easily handle herself -- she had RoiRoy eating out of her hand there -- but it would not do at all to have any sort of attack on her person so much as scratch her. Very bad for hospitality, that. Something he takes seriously, and Roy... not so much. Suraksha smiles and nods politely to the tall, slender man, following him out of the room. She glances over her shoulder at Roy just before she's out of sight, twinkling attractively at him for an instant -- then she turns the corner and is gone. Roy isn't quite so uncouth as to lick his lips or anything so blatant, but it's obvious he was definitely watching her walk away. He grins at her when he's caught and touches his fingers to his temple in a little salute. [Previous Log] [Index] [Next Log] |