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June 14, 2003 |
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| Amber | Trump Deck | Logs | RL Pictures | Main |
Trump call...
The image of Despil says "Yosannah. How are you?"
To the image of Despil, Yosannah smiles at the sight of you, "Despil. Hello, I'm good." She nods lightly, "Keeping a low profile." She drawls on the word 'low' for dramatic effect.
The image of Despil says "Had to make sure I'm not sick."
To the image of Despil, Yosannah furrows her brow, green eyes narrow as she regards you, "Sick. Oh no. Jesus. You aren't, are you?"
The image of Despil says "Not yet."
The image of Despil says "I went to that damned party in Gaslight, had a dance, left."
To the image of Despil, Yosannah inquires, "The ball?"
The image of Despil nods. "That's the one."
To the image of Despil, Yosannah says "Not to change the subject or anything, but how dare you not let me know you were going." She smirks, feigns seriousness,"And you danced? Who is she, Despil?"
The image of Despil says "She was in a costume. And if I didn't know better, I'd think you were jealous."
To the image of Despil, Yosannah rolls her eyes, "Pshhh."
The image of Despil says "I got trumped in for a dance. I'm not the sort to dance and tell. How are you feeling?"
To the image of Despil, Yosannah chuckles, just once, and then, "I'm good, actually." She raises her hand to her neck and taps at the pendant, "But I have help."
The image of Despil says "Good, good."
To the image of Despil, Yosannah says "Listen, I umm." She pauses, reflectively, "Where are you?"
The image of Despil says "Sawall."
To the image of Despil, Yosannah says "Do you mind pulling me through?"
Despil's Chambers...
Despil squeezes your hand. "Welcome to my lair."
Yosannah takes his hand in both of hers and regards him for a long moment. "You -do- look well. Good." She shakes her head, "Not that I can be sure of what I'm looking at anymore." She sighs.
Despil says "Have a seat. Can I get you a drink?"
Yosannah's hand slides out of his, "Sure. Wine if you have it. Something white." She moves toward the bookshelf, crossing her arms over her chest as she looks over the contents.
Despil goes over to his bar, and pulls out a dusty bottle of white from the chilled portion. He opens it and pours two glasses. He drifts back over and hands you one of them.
Yosannah reaches for the glass, almost absent-mindedly as she tilts her head to read the spines of the books. "I haven't been to the courts in almost two weeks now. How bad has the fever gotten here."
Despil says, "I don't know. I've heard talk about it in bars, but I'm not sure who all has it."
Yosannah reaches her free hand up to one of the texts on the shelf and traces a finger over the writing on the spine. Eyes narrow as the attempts to decifer the language, "Hmmm. You know, I've spent some time learning Chaosian Law, rather primative, actually. It amazes me."
Despil says "It is, isn't it? Someone ought to do something about it someday."
Yosannah turns her gaze to him and nods in encouragement, "Someone should." After a moment she adds, "Too much room for interrpretation in your laws. But maybe you nobles like it that way." With that she makes her way to one of the padded chairs.
Despil takes a seat. "Actually, we don't. The educated among us grumble a lot."
Yosannah probes, "Perhaps there are not enough of you 'educated' in positions to do anything about your grumbling." She lifts her glass and smirks behind it.
Despil says "That's true." He shrugs and sips his wine, and lifts it to you.
Yosannah lifts her glass in response and then brings it to her lips for a long drink. "How long are you going to bide your time, Despil. Until you do something about it."
Despil says "Certainly until there's a new king."
Yosannah bites at her lip, a habitual gesture, "And then what?"
Despil says "I'll have to see what's presented to me. What options."
Yosannah purses her lips together in a smirk and waves her hand, flippantly, in his direction, "Keep your ambiguity then."
Despil says "What do you think I should do?"
Yosannah raises her brow and laughs, a single exhileration, "I highly doubt that what I think has any significance on the matter."
Despil says "I value your opinion, nonetheless."
Despil says "Personally, I hesitate to speculate. You know what they say about chickens that haven't hatched."
Yosannah scratches lightly at her temple, "No, I don't, actually."
Despil says "Ah, that you shouldn't count them beforehand."
Yosannah nods as if to indicate that she has heard the phrase before. "In any event, I'm flattered that you value my opinion. I'm surprised to hear such a thing."
Despil lifts his glass. "If you think of anything, let me know."
Yosannah states, "Right," as if not certain whether he is serious. She sets her empty glass aside, "I was wondering, if you could do a favor for me tonight."
Despil says, "It depends on the favor, but I probably can. What is it?"
She tilts her head in a single nod. "I had been meaning to ask this favor of your brother, but," she shrugs her shoulders and turns her gaze away from him, "he's been off and about again." After a moment she returns her attention to him, "I'd like it if you could play back my memories regarding what happened to me a couple weeks back. Corey did this for me once a few years back, if you could do it for me now, I'd owe you big time."
Despil blinks and nods. "Sure."
Yosannah exhales abruptly, as if she had been holding her breath. "Are you sure.
Despil starts to bring the Logrus to mind and says, "No, no, I'm just surprised is all. I'm honored."
Yosannah nods, singly, again. "Okay." Now that he has agreed, it is clear that she is nervous or, at the very least, anxious. She stands and gestures to the sofa, "Maybe over here." As she makes her way to the couch she offers, "When he did it, he was able to project the images... rewind them and fast forward them. Can you do that?"
Despil nods to you and sits on the floor next to you. "Yes, I can do this."
Yosannah swallows and bites at her lower lip, "Okay. What do I need to do... I am not sure what I..." Her voice trails off.
Despil says, "Just sit there. I'll try not to find anything you'd rather I don't."
Despil touches you with his hand, and also with a Logrus tendril and carefully makes contact with his mind to yours.
She blinks at the sensation, unfamiliar. Her eyes glaze over and her gaze looks through him. An image projects very near them of a time prior to the incident in question... Yosannah is in the Gideon Club study with Ben Stone and a man with purple hair... This image speeds by and another image forms of her and Merlin talking alongside a fenced in pasture where a mare grazes nearby...
Despil finds the proper memories and projects them as holograms in front of them.
More images speed past until the picture slows as if in real time. She is exiting a Cathedral, hands in the pockets of her jacket. She trods slowly and evenly, watching her steps as she does. A pale figure stands dead center in the wide obsidian path, looking up in an expression of mild wonderment at the church...an expression the vast edifice. A broad-brimmed western hat perches on his head, pinning wisps of long, straight hair of virtually no hue down in a curtain around a drawn and weathered face. At his throat, long fingers absently toy with something...
Despil asks, "Is this it?"
Yosannah turns her gaze to the picture as it develops before them. Her gaze strains as she attempts to concentrate on the images. She offers a nod though the gesture seems difficult for her.
Despil focuses and centers on the images and makes them stronger.
The reflection continues to play as he watches. She approaches th eman and they seem to converse for a short time. The man is gaunt, his eyes crinkling a little despite any lack of bright light. Her lips purse lightly and a question plays in her eyes. The man turns fully from the Church towards Yosannah, fingers dropping from his throat to expose an amulet on an intricate silver chain.
A single stone sits in the hollow of his throat, a deep amber irregular sphere that seems would fit snugly into one's palm. The gem seems to pulse as the two converse. Pleasantries are obviously exchanged as the two shake hands though her attention is absorbed by the trinket at his neck.
Despil watches this and guides the memories forward.
As you watch the scene unfold further, Yosannah mutters softly, mimicking the words her likeness might be saying at that very moment could they be heard, "I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name, Sir." And then she repeats what must be the man's response, "Joachim will do,"
Despil sharpens up the image of Joachim and nods. He has it dangle there for as long as Yo wants.
The man bends over to unfasten the opening of his bag and it unfolds into layers of leather flaps lined with a complex array of leather bands and finger-sized pouches. His actions dislodge the amulet from his throat and it falls between her eyes and the pale man's wares... Yosannah's gaze returns to the pendant at the man's neck. Very gradually, the color in her eyes begins to fade as if being filled by black storm clouds swirling violently.
At that moment her fingers reach outward toward the pendant, the swirling vortex of nimbus in her eyes intent on the target. The chain the man holds is dropped, forgotten and gleaming on the black road as he reaches up to unclasp the stone from around his neck. It seems the light in the heart of it grows as the she draws nearer, he extends it to her...
Despil directs the images to a closer look at the gem. He goes carefully over the details of the image.
Her brow furrows and her face is filled with torment and indecision as she seems to be struggling with the urge to seize the gem from his hand. At that moment, her hand lunges for the pendant. Her jaw clutches as her body is wracked with a massive charge of electricity emanating from the stone. Gradually, the dark nimbus seem to pour from her eyes; the cloud like mist is siphoned rapidly into the item clutched in her hands.
She slumps over, body curled in a fetal position on the walkway. Tears stream down her face as her body convulses and spasms at the man's feet - the pain on her face is unmistakable. The man's fingers close on the stone as it rises into his palm. He lingers a moment, watching the girl before turning to leave..
Yosannah's mind pushes toward your own, "... enough."
Despil reaches over and puts his arms around Yosannah. He holds her and lets the memories go, and sits next to her on the couch, holding her.
Yosannah's breath comes quickly, the endeavor apparently very trying on her endurance. She lets her head sink into his chest.
Despil holds Yosannah and strokes her hair. He murmurs, "It's all right, dear. You're here with me. It's just a memory."
After a long moment she begins to nod, the totality of what she has remembered sinking into her psyche, "Joachim." She moves as if to slide out of his arms, "Joachim."
Despil lets her go if that's what she wants, but isn't letting go. He nods and mmm hmms.
Yosannah doesn't force her way from him, instead, she remains close. Her gaze falls to her knees, "What are the chances that what we saw is that man's real form?"
Despil holds Yo and says, "Hard to say. Memories are slippery things. It could be exact, or it could be nothing like that."
Yosannah nods again and slides her tongue over her lips, wetting them. "Thank you. Much of that I didn't remember. And I needed to see it again from a different perspective." Again, "Thank you."
Despil says "It could be a picture of his body or his soul. My guess is it's more likely true than false. You're a detail-oriented woman."
Yosannah considers this and chuckles, "Yeah. Some call it anal. I like detail-oriented myself."
Despil chuckles too and nods. He squeezes Yosannah lightly. "I'm not going to pry. It's not my business."
Yosannah smiles lightly, weary. "Now what do we do?"
Despil asks, "Need to sleep? Or I can pour you more wine. It was your ordeal."
Yosannah considers, "Both. Wine will help me sleep, if that's okay."
Despil nods and pulls the bottle over with a tendril. It floats and refills our glasses. "It's fine with me. The bed's comfy, and I can move to the spare room."
Yosannah holds the glass between both hands and tilts her head back against the couch with a long sigh, "Sounds wonderful, actually. I've been having a horrible time sleeping at my place in Elbridge the last couple of months. The gesture is appreciated more then you know."
Despil smiles and touches Yo's hand. "My pleasure. I have a knight in shining armor streak, so thank you for indulging it."
She sits quietly for a long moment, gaze lingering on the ceiling, "Before we call it a night, I wanted to ask you... How was your chat with Damen the other night. After Ryker took me back to the Church." She lowers her gaze to his hand, regarding it with a smile.
Despil says, "It went well. I got the frankest talk of any of you with him. Sounds like a good group of people. Ryker's got a mouth, but I can handle it."
Yosannah raises a brow at that and lets her head roll along the couch so that she can regard him more evenly, "Damen? Frank?" She smirks, "Heh."
Despil smiles. "Is that news?" He drinks more of his wine.
Yosannah offers flatly, "As a matter of fact." She shrugs, offering little else.
Despil says "Maybe I've just been deceived."
"I suppose it depends on what he told you."
Despil says "That it's a mutual self-defense society. That when someone needs help, people do what they can without endangering themselves too much. It's a straighter answer than I got from anyone else."
Yosannah closes her eyes and rests her head back against the couch, "Mmmm. Something like that, yeah. Sure." A smile escapes her lips. Whether she is smiling at their conversation or some distant thought is unknown. Her breath begins to come evenly.
Despil smiles. "So."
Yosannah's hands still hold her wineglass in her lap, though they seem to be slipping from their hold. She mutters, eyes still closed, "So... Somehow, I should get to bed."
Despil says, "As you wish. I have robes, toothbrushes, etc. My servants will see to your needs, I'll be in the next room."
Yosannah moans lighty, "mmm." The kind of moan by someone who is already asleep.