August 9, 2003

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Amber

Trump Deck

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Trump call ...

You stare at the image of Despil...

You have established contact with Despil.

The image of Despil says "Hello, Yosannah."

To the image of Despil, Yosannah says "Hey, I'm in Sawall. I'm told you're out."

The image of Despil says, "I'm in Niemand's with Armand."

To the image of Despil, Yosannah runs a hand over her hair and nods with a sigh, "Busy? I mean, I don't mean to interrupt..."

The image of Despil says "You could join us if you like."

To the image of Despil, Yosannah considers this for a long moment before offering him a nod, "Sure, if you don't mind, bring me through."

The image of Despil offers to pull you through.

Niemand's ...

Yosannah arrives grasping Despil's hand, she offers him a somewhat forced smile and squeezes his fingers, "Thank you." She begins to slide her hand from his as she notes the other man, "Hello. I trust I'm not interrupting..."

Despil smiles. "Good turning, Yo."

Armand shakes his head, "Non, not at all. He warned me you'd be arriving."

Despil says "Armand, this is Yosannah, who is a friend of the family. Yo, Lord Armand Duvalier."

Yosannah chuckles softly at Armand's words, "Heh. Warned, eh." She holds her hand out to the Lord, "Sir, it's a pleasure."

Armand accepts the hand, and plants a faint brush of his lips across its back before he lets it go, "Indeed. The pleasure being mine."

Yosannah smiles at the gesture, glancing sidelong at Despil and then back at Armand. She indicates a chair, "May I?"

Despil says "Please, please."

At your table, Yosannah looks between the two men, she is mildly uncomfortable, and it shows. Her hands clasp together and she bites at her lower lip, "So, um. How is it that you two are acquainted?"

At your table, Despil says, "Armand is married to my granddaughter."

At your table, Yosannah looks to Armand with a smile, "Oh?"

At your table, Armand smiles quite affably, and with a remarkably different answer, "Mortal enemies. But we respect Niemand too much to bring violence to his bar."

At your table, Despil nods and says, "Quite, quite."

At your table, Yosannah furrows her brow, glaze narrowing. "Ah," is the only response as she is not quite certain how to react to the information. Instead she glances to see what the men might be drinking, if anything.

At your table, Despil has the remnants of his usual, cherry uneaten.

At your table, Armand doesn't elaborate, and seems to enjoy keeping poor Yosannah guessing, his glass empty.

At your table, Yosannah makes a tisking sound with her tongue and her lips, "Anyone interested in a refill? I could use a drink."

At your table, Despil says "Yes, order me one. How are you doing?"

At your table, Armand says "Ginger mead with a twist of orange, if you'd be so kind?"

Yosannah places their orders along with a glass of Riesling for herself.

At your table, Yosannah says "Fine. I've been out at your place for the last few days." She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, habitually, "Your brother is home."

At your table, Despil smiles and says, "Ah, delightful. Give him my best. I've been off trying to solve the problem with your symbiote."

At your table, Armand tilts his head a bit to the side, remaining quiet for now.

Yosannah the drinks are delivered to their table. Yosannah directs their location: Gingermead with a twist for Armand, Manhattan for Despil...

At your table, Yosannah notes the tilt of Armand's head and regards him, muttering softly for clarification, "His brother Merle." She smiles and then lifts the glass of wine to her lips.

At your table, Armand nods, "I figured that part of it out. Just mildly curious about how a symbiote could be bothering you."

At your table, Yosannah lowers her gaze to the table, still awkward, "Of course." Before she elaborates she looks to Despil as if seeking his approval to explain.

At your table, Despil says, "It's your issue."

At your table, Armand says "I hadn't meant to pry. Shall we change the subject?"

At your table, Yosannah turns her attention to Armand, lowers her glass to the table and then lifts her green eyes to Despil, "You," she inclines her chin in his direction, "Brought it up."

At your table, Despil says "I know. I'm sorry. If you don't want to talk about it, we'll change the subject."

Larmafen arrives without a trump in hand.

At your table, Yosannah shrugs, matter of factly and shakes her head, "No." She urges, perhaps mildly sarcastic, "That's quite all right." She rests an elbow on the table and turns to regard Armand again, "Let's start again." She holds out her hand, "I'm Yo, or Pestilence depending on who you talk to. One quarter of the reason there's a war ah-brewing. Nice to meet you."

Armand glances over toward Larmafen sometime after she arrives, offering a playful whistle by way of greeting, before his attention is abruptly brought back to his table.

Despil smiles. "Lady Larmafen."

Larmafen looks over at the whistle. "Lord Despil, pulease. Show a little discretion." She winks.

At your table, Armand raises a brow, "One of the Four? And a source of both curiosity and no small annoyance for many."

Yosannah is about to comment when Larmafen addresses their table. She pauses instead to regard the woman, lowering her offered hand.

At your table, Armand accepts the hand, if belatedly. Seems he can be caught off guard now and again.

Despil says "Alas, I was not clever enough to whistle."

Armand smirks a little bit at Larmafen in turn, "And teasing, you're good at that one too, Larma."

Larmafen curtsies. "A gal does what she can."

At your table, Despil says "I'm working with various others to set this right."

At your table, Armand nods slowly to that, "If anything at my disposal can assist, do let me know."

At your table, Yosannah raises a brow as she runs a finger around the glass, "Set it right?" She offers a nod to Armand, acknowledging his offer, "The Minister is moving troops. You're telling me you're going to somehow stop a war? Jesus, Despil."

At your table, Despil looks to Yosannah and says, "I'm working with them to stop not -a- war, but War."

At your table, Armand murmurs dryly, "Lovely."

At your table, Yosannah bites back a comment to Despil as Armand's mutter. She looks at the man, attempting to determine what has caused his apparent distress.

At your table, Armand says "Just counting another thing on my list of things to worry about. I was reducing stack size earlier today, in hopes I'd get a nice vacation from worries for a bit soon."

At your table, Armand says "Just counting another thing on my list of things to worry about. I was reducing stack size earlier today, in hopes I'd get a nice vacation from worries for a bit soon."

At your table, Yosannah regards Armand and asks, "What?"

At your table, Armand says "I was neglecting War of the four, because I hadn't heard any large noises circulating about him, her, or it."

At your table, Despil says "The plan is to waylay War out in Shadow, as a way of getting the four back to their usual hosts."

At your table, Yosannah nods at Armand's comment and then offers one of her own, "The Minister is going about this all wrong..." She shakes her head. "Waylay War with a war. That's like... like... fighting pestilence with malaria."

At your table, Armand says "Distract War with a war. And do what you have to do to neutralize him, instead perhaps?"

At your table, Despil says "Do you have a better suggestion?"

At your table, Yosannah hears both of the men's comments and opens her mouth to address them. Multiple thoughts must get caught in her throat at the same time as the only sound that comes out is an exhale of breath. Then she nods, slowly at first, "Maybe. Maybe yeah."

At your table, Armand says "I confess, my knowledge of the Four is sadly sparse, but it does seem wrong to hit War with what War is good at. Use a war as bait, though, and you can blindside him. Catch him unawares.

At your table, Despil says "Then tell me, please."

At your table, Yosannah shakes her head at Despil, "No, no, no." She points at Armand, "What he said." She nods again, "That makes sense."

At your table, Despil says "Fine. Then distract him. Then what?"

At your table, Yosannah considers Despil's question. She slumps back into her chair, wine glass held between both hands, "Then," she states matter of faction, "We free the creatures.. and..." She exhales and shrugs her shoulders, "I don't know. What's to say that will fix things?"

At your table, Armand says "Creatures, you say? What kind of creatures? Can we just immobilize the host with say, a Logrus tendril or many, and force the creature to flee its present host?"

At your table, Despil nods at Armand's words. "What he said."

At your table, Armand adds with a faintly bemused expression, "And why am I not being made actively sick around Pestilence, for that matter? What makes you different...?"

At your table, Yosannah considers each concern in turn but smiles at Armand's last question. "It's not really with me anymore. The person that took her.. it from me took the others as well. I carry the remnants of her diseases and what have you, but," She taps at the pendant around her neck, "I'm not contagious because of this."

At your table, Yosannah adds for Despil's benefit, "What we need to do is get that stone from this guy. Remember that amber colored stone?"

At your table, Despil nods. "But only in passing. Tell me again."

At your table, Armand takes a sip of his mead, and listens now.

At your table, Yosannah says "From the vision you watched out of my mind," She nods and talks to Armand, including him in the conversation, "The man that came for me had a stone. Something powerful and alluring." She reflects on the memory, "I touched it, I couldn't help myself. It was so painful..." She lowers her gaze to the wine in her glass. Almost empty.

At your table, Despil says "That is the theory."

At your table, Yosannah rests her fist above her lip, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." She shakes her head, "To both of you. To everyone. That I have had anything to do with this."

At your table, Armand holds up a hand, "One doesn't shoot the messenger if one has half a brain. Nobody would deliver you any mail ever again."

At your table, Despil says "Yo. I'm off the sidelines and going to do my damnedest to fix this. Any help I get will be appreciated. I'll go for the stone."

At your table, Yosannah smiles at Armand, obviously thankful for the sentiment. She then nods at Despil muttering, "Okay." And then, as an afterthought, "If the creature comes back to me, I'll try to fix what it's done. I can't make any promises." She smiles, "That's a big 'if' and a questionable possibility that I'll be able to do anything."

At your table, Despil says "I trust you to do your best, Yo. And I'm not going to tell you that your best ought to be better."

At your table, Armand sips his drink, pensive more than anything else now.

At your table, Yosannah wets her lips, mood also pensive, "I was thinking, and maybe you guys can give me your thoughts, that I should turn myself into the Minister, so to speak. As a showing of good faith. I suspect he might be wanting a few words of me anyway."

At your table, Despil says "Solomon, you mean?"

At your table, Yosannah nods, "Yes."

At your table, Armand says "Having you in one place, so that if the creature does return to you, you're in controlled conditions would be a plus..

At your table, Yosannah inhales slowly and then exhales. "I suppose so."

At your table, Despil says "I have heard nothing but good things about the Minister."

At your table, Yosannah tugs at her lower lip with her thumb and forefinger, "Good. Do you think maybe you could take me to him in the next couple of days?"

At your table, Despil says "I'd be willing, yes."

At your table, Yosannah sits silently for a moment with the two men before suggesting, "Maybe we could change the topic. Might do wonders for the mood."

At your table, Despil says "Very well. But tell me if there are more hints I need to make this go well for you."

At your table, Yosannah nods, "Sure." She forces a smile, "But until then... Uh... What's the word on the new King."

At your table, Armand murmurs dryly, "Church still isn't happy with him."

At your table, Despil says "He approves of the subject we just changed from."

At your table, Despil says "Of course, the church refused to swear to uphold the king's peace, too."

At your table, Yosannah chuckles at both statements. "Well, I'm not surprised about the church. And I'm relieved at his approval about the Riders." She considers, "Magnus," she shakes her head. "What's his deal, I don't understand."

At your table, Armand says "I wish I knew, in truth."

At your table, Despil says "Speculation tends to turn sarcastic."

At your table, Yosannah says "What are the current speculations?"

At your table, Despil says "One speculation is that he believes himself to be the serpent."

At your table, Yosannah shakes her head and laughs lightly at that, "That would explain a lot." She gestures near her face, at her eyes specifically, "Though he has both of his eyes, so I'm not so sure I can believe him."

At your table, Despil grins. "One other speculation involves what is colloquially called a one-eyed trouser snake."

At your table, Yosannah laughs again at Despil but quickly quiets so as to listen to Armand.

At your table, Armand murmurs quietly, subdued, "He may believe himself to truly be the Voice of the Serpent, following its direct designs. I think he may be in denial over that, with his own secular voice being the driving force behind his actions now. He speaks with the authority of the Voice of the Serpent, but the voice itself, is his own."

At your table, Despil nods to Armand and says, "That is what I believed before the coronation. But at that, he responded to the oath saying that The Serpent looks after its people. Did he mean assent by that, or was he merely trying to weasel out of it with a plausible-sounding non-sequitur."

At your table, Yosannah finishes off what remains over her wine and orders another, "There is something slightly unnerving about him. I'm never quite settled when he's near. Why is that, I wonder?"

At your table, Despil says "Does he hit on you?"

At your table, Yosannah is served another glass of wine, "Not in so many words but," She smirks, "You may not understand this as a man, but there is just a feeling women get about these sorts of things. I dunno."

At your table, Despil looks to Yo and says, "In a recent family meeting, the women in Sawall said that they don't go to church because they don't feel safe there and are often hit on. That's why I ask."

At your table, Armand stretches, "Unfortunately, if you'll both excuse me? I have certain things I need to tend to back at the House."

At your table, Yosannah nods in understanding at Despil but turns her attention to Armand, "Certainly. Thank you for the company, Armand."

At your table, Despil says "Of course, Armand. It was a pleasure talking to you."

At your table, Armand mock cringes, "Don't let that get out. We're mortal enemies. You keep forgetting." He tsks and shakes his head as he rises.

At your table, Despil sighs. "Right, right. I keep forgetting."

Armand is just standing from the colorful table, and he offers Tkaldinask a polite nod as his gaze begins to go distant, "Good turnings, all." Armand moves forward and vanishes, leaving behind a rapidly fading afterimage.

At your table, Yosannah clasps her hands atop the table, "All alone now." She smiles, weary.

At your table, Despil smiles. "At last. How are you?"

At your table, Yosannah's gaze lights up, "Always trying to get me alone. Devil."

At your table, Despil says "And so rarely succeeding."

At your table, Yosannah wraps a fingernail against the side of her wine glass, "Ooh, now that's not true."

At your table, Despil chuckles. He sips his drink.

At your table, Yosannah lingers a moment before offering, "I uh.. I ran into Jurt again the other day. Seems he frequents one of my favorite shadows."

At your table, Despil says "Which one?"

At your table, Yosannah says "A place called Vrokk. Familiar?"

At your table, Despil nods and says, "I know of it, yes. Loud."

At your table, Yosannah nods, "Mmm. Yeah. I don't mean the city proper though. There's this beach, not to far off. It has the most beautiful sand." She smiles thoughtful and reflective, "And an emerald sea."

At your table, Despil hmmms. "That would be worth seeing."

At your table, Yosannah lifts her glass to her lips and gulps down the entirety of her wine. Setting the glass on the table she tucks a hand into her jacket pocket and withdraws a smattering of tarots. Flipping though them she settles on one and slides it across the table to him so that he might see the place she has described.

At your table, Despil leans over and looks at the place. He stares at the card for a moment, and says, "Lovely. Absolutely lovely."

At your table, Yosannah tilts her head, regarding the card as he does. As is the style with most of her personal tarots, it is drawn in shades of purple and deep blue - as if sketched in the moonlight, "We can go if you want." She reaches for the card on the table and slides out of her chair.

Despil stands and leaves the table of shifting colors.

Vrokk Beach - shoreline...

Despil looks around to take it all in. "Dramatic."

Yosannah's fingers linger in his as she looks about the beach as well, "Yeah. I've been to a lot of places, probably not as many as you, but this has to be my favorite."

Despil squeezes Yom’s hand and says, "That says a lot."

Her attention returns to him, having wandered. "I don't recall how I found this place. It seems like so long ago." She turns looking toward the beach house and motions in the direction of the rubble that remains, "Your brother has some fascination with that place. I'm not sure what it is."

Despil says "I have no idea, either. Shall we take a walk?"

Yosannah nods, "Yeah, okay." As they begin to walk along the water's edge she offers, finally "You know. We didn't get to meet under the very best of circumstances. And I'm sorry for that." Muttering she adds, "Sorry for a lot of things it seems..."

Despil walks with her and says, "I don't think there's anything to apologize for. I find the way we met to be charming."

Yosannah shakes her head, finally sliding her fingers from him, laughing, "Charming? Yeah?"

Despil stops, looks to her and says, "Yeah. Why wouldn't it be? And what do -you- think you need to apologize for?"

Yosannah stops as well, a step after him, and crosses her arms over her chest, "I'm sorry that it was under such a stressful and tumultuous circumstances. That hardly seems charming to me." She smiles at him, "But tell me about how charming it was."

Despil says "It had been ages since I'd heard anyone refer to Merle Corey. It was amusing. Do I know him? Why, yes."

Yosannah lowers her gaze to the sand, drawing a line with her toe, "I suppose when you put it like that." She asks dramatically, "What were the chances?"

Despil says "Between slim and none?"

Yosannah nods in agreement and smiles, perhaps mostly to herself, "Right. I get the impression, sometimes, that you don't like to discuss my relationship with your brother. And at the same time, he's to thank for introducing us. Funny that."

Despil chuckles. "And here I thought you didn't like to discuss that. I have no problems with your relationship with him."

Yosannah smiles, "Ah, there we have it. You're thinking that I'm thinking that I don't like to discuss it." She nods "That's what we lawyers like to refer to as a circular argument."

Despil nods to you. "Then we should discuss it."

Yosannah nods back, mimicking his gesture, "Ok."

Despil laughs and then asks, starting walking again, "What -is- your relationship with him?"

Yosannah follows after him, having to step quickly at first to catch up, "Oh, come on. You must know him better then anyone. He's not relationship material."

Despil offers a hand. "I had no idea of that. And if I know him better than anyone, then indeed he is a cipher."

Yosannah takes his hand, because it seems like the natural thing to do, "No idea? What kind of siblings are you?"

Despil walks with her and smiles. "No idea that he's not relationship material. Remember, brothers frequently have little idea of what each other are like with the opposite sex."

Yosannah smiles, glancing out over the emerald water as she speaks, "Not having any brothers, I can't say that I would know that." And then, "I don't fault him for that. I don't know that I'm much relationship material either. We spend time together when we're both around. And when we're not..." She shrugs. "Whether I might consider wanting it to be more isn't really an option."

Despil says "I would expect it to be the same with sisters. The you that gets presented to sibs is not what goes out on a date."

Yosannah considers this, "I don't know. In any event, the truth is... Hell, I don't know what the truth is."

Despil says "Then how do you feel now?"

A strand of hair falls across her face as a gust of wind blows off the water, "I adore him. But that doesn't change anything."

Despil watches her and says, "That he's not relationship material?"

Yosannah nods, "That he hasn't expressed an desire to change the current nature of our relationship. And even if he did..." She shrugs, "I dunno. My heart is still very much bound to Damen, despite our separation."

Despil says "What -is- the current nature of your relationship?"

Yosannah chuckles, obviously amused and bordering on a giggle, "Round and round. Hmmm. Really, really good friends. With benefits. How's that?"

Despil laughs and nods. "Clear. I understand that. No ties, then."

Yosannah nods at this, "Technically, no. No ties. I'm not sure I'm capable of ties." She seems reflective in this point, perhaps digesting the sound of it.

Despil nods more to her and smiles. "Forgive me for being hyper-sensitive about this. Merle and I get along, but we're not what you'd call close. I don't want to engender any animosity."

Yosannah raises a brow, "Why, are you engendering some animosity, Despil?"

Despil grins and shakes his head. "No, and I want to stay away from that. Hence my precision in wanting to know what your relationship is with him." He squeezes your hand. "If it is friends with benefits, then he'd not get upset, I hope, at walking hand in hand with you."

Yosannah peers down at where their hands meet with a smirk, "I don't know. There's a fine line between what he shares with me and what he keeps to himself." She shrugs, "He might get upset, but then again, he might not. He certainly wouldn't be entitled to be upset and, at the same time, I would just assume he didn't know."

Despil says "Then it's simply best unmentioned."

Yosannah nods simply, "I suppose that is the problem with seeing or dating someone that is as aloof as he. And I'm not the kind of person that's going to force anyone's hand." She sighs, "Ah well."

Despil grins. "Indeed." He squeezes her hand.

Yosannah chuckles, "You're not supposed to be so agreeable on that point, Despil."

Despil says "I'm not agreeing, I'm empathizing."

Yosannah teases, "So you do not agree then."

Despil says "I think that if you're not going to force his hand, he's not going to do anything."

Yosannah narrows her gaze and regards him, "Are you advising me to force something? Just so I can be clear here."

Despil says "I'm not advising anything. I don't know what your desires are."

Yosannah nods, seemingly satisfied, or maybe feigning satisfaction, "Okay. Good."

Despil says "While I find you interesting, in many ways I don't know that much about you."

Yosannah suggests, "I think you know quite a bit – though probably not on a level for which I think you are referring. Or regarding matters of the heart. But, now that you mention it, I could say the same of you."

Despil replies, "True. I have assumed you are Merle's girlfriend, and thus off-limits. But you are quite beautiful when you sleep, I must tell you."

Her lips purse slightly into a smile though she lowers her chin in an effort to hide her blush, "You. You were watching me?"

Despil just looks at her. He says, "Yes. Is that some sort of violation?"

Yosannah pauses now and turns to look out over the water, light pulse from the city behind them humming in the distance. "No. Well, maybe to some, yes. But somehow I am flattered. It's nice knowing that someone is watching over you. You're a credit to your family."

Despil smiles and squeezes Yo's hand. He says, "Thank you. I'll have you know that you are much of the reason why I am dealing with this horsemen thing at all, and doing it the way I am."

Her gaze goes to the red-black sky that casts a warm glow of light against their skin, "Oh, I don't know, Despil. You seem like a man of action. Are you telling me that you'd sit by and let all this happen and do nothing? I appreciate the sentiment, but somehow I doubt you'd have done nothing."

Despil smiles and says, "Yes, but do what? If I didn't know you, I might be more bold with the rash solution. Get rid of the horsemen. Treat them as a blight or infection and just cut them out. But knowing your part in it, I have the personal interest in not hurting you."

"Funny how all we really have is our perspective on things. It can change what we do, who we are and how we deal with a given situation. I'm thankful that your involvement with me has changed your perspective on this issue." She considers this, pensive, as she looks to the sky.