Completed Graceless and Divine

Vittoria Larrainth

Vittoria Larrainth

The Unmaker
Dreadlords
Monthly Poster III
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488
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When she had signed up for the extracurricular class to learn about poisons, she had not thought they would be paired up and doing research with others. The project was quite simple really, asking groups split into Poisons or Antidotes to pick their poison or cure and study them. There was to be a written element to it all, so a proper study was called for. All of this was fine by Vittoria Larrainth, except for the fact she had been partnered with the likes of Kilien Basmarc and that happy look upon his expression as she brought her book over to his table in the library. She need not scowl or frown, not when her face perfect the perfect steel of neutrality.

"No fooling around, Basmarc. We were assigned a poison, and I already picked one. Aconite, or commonly known as monkshood or even..." Her ocean hues flicked up, the slightest upturn of one side of her lips quirking before finishing with one last word, "wolfsbane."
 
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For one that liked to hear praise, she did not appreciate it coming from the likes of him.

Vittoria shook her head, her face forming half an attempt of a smile as she opened the page to him. "Oh, but I do not. You see, Basmarc, I looked here in the index and saw it listed with it's many other names. It simply caught my attention."

Perhaps a little too on the nose, Vittoria only knew it would be an easier study when she was able to procure some of the plant and go further to demonstrate it's deadly effects before the class.
 
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Now she frowned.

Or at least a frown enough caused by her dark brows furrowing together for a brief moment. Rounding the table, she pulled a chair behind her and placed it beside the illiterate Initiate. "Aconite can be found in the flower wolfsbane." She began, propping the book flat against his outstretched legs. Her finger pointed to the line she had read from, turning to look at him.

"It is the Aconite in this flower that is the poison. It can kill humans and animals."
 
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The book-prop lifted his arms, casually running both hands through his messy waves before he clamped them around the back of his head. If he was supposed to be taking notes, he clearly didn't intend to do so with quill and parchment as neither were anywhere in sight.

Instead, Basmarc closed his eyes and nodded along to her words. He'd have sparked up a fresh cigarette if the Head Librarian hadn't already confiscated his matches and pack before Vittoria arrived.

"So why's it called wolfsbane?"
 
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"Early on in Anirian history, when Vel Cirak was just Cirak, werewolves plagued the areas. Of course, the number was so great, we do not know how many truly exist, even to this day. Anirians used the aconite to poison the wolves, and thus, the name wolfsbane."

She did not need to read the book, leaving it open on his lap as her own arms crossed. Vittoria stared at Kilien for a moment.

"I think it is important to demonstrate there are other ways to kill things other than magic, do you not think?"
 
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"Well that's pretty racist, iddn't'it?" Kilien crossed his own arms in mimicry of the girl, "Suppose that was their town to begin with and then Anirians just came in and janked 'em up? That's just rude."

A yawn pushed from his lungs and out his mouth, likely bringing with it the smell of his last meal as he looked on with potent boredom, "Plenty of ways to kill things without magic. This ain't special."
 
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"Perhaps you would like to choose a new poison?" She nodded to the book, still opened to the page she had found. He was bot wrong, but Vittoria was not the kind to give praise to someone so easily, or to one so... reluctant to participate in the study of bettering themselves.

"I can grace you such a courtesy if that pleases you, Basmarc."
 
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"It would please me to have a flagon of ale and a nice rack of ribs." Among other things, but Kilien wasn't so lewd as to burn the girl's ears off speaking them. He gave her a beardy smile instead.

"Pickin' another poison won't make any difference to me," he gestured lazily at the book propped against him, "sides, you're cute when you're smug."

Clearly she'd picked this poison on purpose.
 
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Vittoria made a noise that sounded like a soft scoff, unfurling her arms to reach for the library book and dropping it into her own lap. "You can eat after you contribute to this project." She flipped the page and began to read it.

"You are right. Perhaps we should challenge ourselves with a more deadly posion..." Opening to the rear of the text, she looked through the index and began to name some new options.

"Delphiniums... nightshade... mistletoe... holly... yarrow..."
 
The promise of food got a raised brow out of him.

Kilien Basmarc will work for food.

"Contribute..." he echoed her as he kicked his boots off the table and scooched his chair over closer to her, giving no regard to personal space as he withdrew reading glasses from the inner breast pocket of his jacket and pulled them onto his face.

Squinting, Kilien leaned to get a better look at the list, "Then let's go for one that doesn't have a lot of info, eh? What about that one?" he pointed to yarrow.
 
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Vittoria's lips pursed, a slight wrinkle above her brow as he moved to sit closer beside her, but even if she did prefer her space, he was close enough for her to slip a knife from beneath her cloaked skin if he were to try anything. But Larrainth was surprised, watching him pick a poison from her list.

She went back to find the page. "Hm. Yarrow is used for healing properties."

Turning her face, she studied him with a blank stare. "A wildflower. I bet the greenhouses will have some."
 
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A look of amusement settled on her face, giving him a light quizzical look. "Well spotted, Basmarc. Yes, many poisons are used in medical situations..."

She read the page, eyes skimming the paragraphs before pointing to him the fact she was looking for. "This is where dosage comes into play. Too much and it may start to do the opposite of it's nature."
 
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Kilien gave the book a dubious eye and lifted a hand to itch through the ruff on his jaw, "Sounds like some fae nonsense to me."

But nonsense of any kind had rarely ever stopped him. Usually it was his own brand of nonsense anyway. With a yawn he stood, stretched, and serenaded Larrainth with a symphony of spinal cracks.

"So you think there's some here at the academy?" Kilien gave a short look around, shoved his hands in his coat pockets and fixed her with a grin, "Let's go test this nonsense out."
 
The crack of bones were a pleasant sound to her ears, but only when it was under her own magic causing bones to splinter and break that would out do such a melody. She had rarely spent time alone with Basmarc, finding him too chatty and smiley for her liking. Such a smile, like the one he donned now, would be met with her cruel words to him in the past, and it irked her she could not disarm him so easily.

Finished studying him, she looked down at the single page of the yarrow and folded the corner to mark the page. Closing it, she stood up slowly and began to place it into the leather satchel she used around the Academy. "Humans have a long history with plants. Why should it be seen as a fae notion?" She asked of him, lifting a quizzical brow down at him from where she stood.
 
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"Because fae have a longer history with everything," he said matter-of-factly. Kilien couldn't say why he knew this to be an absolute truth, but he felt it in his gut.

"Besides, they're known for their nonsense, it's kind of their thing. Who knows, maybe they made yarrow for their own entertainment. Watch us dumb humans die from figuring out what it is..." yeah, that was definitely their M.O.

He sniffed, shrugged the absurdity of the idea away, and motioned for Larrainth to lead the way. He'd never been to the greenhouse.
 
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At least he stopped smiling.

Instead of arguing with the infuriating Initiate, she set upon taking the lead to the outdoors of the Academy. It was nearing the end of the day, but the sun was still high in the sky. Summer was often enjoyed by Vittoria as it allowed her more time in a day, and her best moments for training was over summer. Today, she would take a slower paced day to get this project over and done with, so as to limit the time spent with Basmarc.

"I see it all as balance. The cost of everything. Too much water to a plant can drown it. Too much whipping of a pancake can make it flat. Must I give more examples, Basmarc?"
 
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A light smile crooked at her lips.

"I strive to be perfection. My father taught me, and it was not hard to keep it up." In her eyes, her father was on his way to reaching the perfect rank within the Dreadlords, an Archon, but the First Rank Dreadlord that served their House the Viraks for so long only had a set amount of time to impart his wisdom to his daughter. Not until she was old enough to go on missions did he keep a distance and watched from afar, but Vittoria knew he was not disappointed by her.

"If you do well on this project, I may ask one of the cooks to make you pancakes. That new cook may just be the one to turn around the quality of feed offered here."
 
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She was not aware of any speech impediment of Basmarc's, but perhaps it was one of those ploys boys liked to use to get a girl to keep talking to them. Vittoria was all too aware of the kind of person Basmarc was, and all his flattery and charm fell flat to her.

"La-rainth." she turned to him, scowling at his second mispronunciation. Having planned on ignoring such a mistake, Vittoria's scowl deepened a fraction when she realised she might have fallen into a trap with him. "I am the last of my name, you should do some courtest and show manners to pronounce it correctly."

But no one but her guardian knew of the promise she had made her father, that she would be the one to erase all members of the vassal house.

But finally, the gods were kind to her now. The greenhouses loomed before them, and it struck her that she did not know which one would be housing yarrow.
 
Oh boy, there it was. The scowl.

And what a beautiful thing it was.

Kilien smiled innocently, "Lair-rinth. That it? Sorry, the bougie names are a bit tough for my teeth sometimes. Came up on the streets, you know. How 'bout I just call you Vitt."

And without waiting for her response, Kilien made way toward the nearest greenhouse spouting off various pronunciations of her last name with some difficulty.
 
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Vitt.

Such a comfortable and casual acknowledgement from someone she did not want thinking that they were friends.

The scowl twitched at her lips before her face softened back to a state of neutrality, and Vittoria opened the first door to the greenhouse.

"Yarrow typically have small flowers, as if in a cluster. White in colour, and their leaves defined to appear as if they are feathery." Information from the book came readily to her mind, and she did not hesitate to relay the information to him. This first greenhouse was small, not many flowers to be seen. And yet she kept a diligent eye out in case she had missed them perhaps.
 
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