Dreadlords Big Brothers

Threads open to all members of the Dreadlords group
Soleil effortlessly mirrored the wide grin the Blue Man displayed.

"Us? Big armor. Impressive armor. Ornate armor."

"You'rrrrrrrrrrrre in luck! We have all three categories with a wide array of selections in each, all featured in the most popular of plays currently in the theatres! Which kind would you be looking for especially?"

"All three." And Soleil wrapped an arm around Mieri, a gleam of excitement in her eye. "We play Anirius. Armor? Fit for a god."

Mieri
 
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[She nearly revealed us,] Fennec signed back, her expression douring beneath the chiaroscuro of black and white skeletal smudge. Revealing clandestine information for a mission was enough in her book to put the woman to death, but the costumes were rather high on the list of priorities and she had yet to develop a knack for stitching.

So Leora would live. For now.

Upon reaching the pedestal, Fennec gave Caeso a side glance of curiosity.

"Ah, you can set your things on the bench there by the wall," Leora gestured, her smile wavering as the small one's gaze landed upon her, "it will only take a few moments."

Without a word Fen moved past the pedestal to the bench and began to pull off her outer layers. Rucksack, travel cloak, and the primary pieces of her leather armor were placed with purpose and order on one end. When she turned to mount the pedestal, there was not much left to the Initiate and her trim, compact form.

"If you could hold your arms straight out to the side," Leora plucked a measuring tape from an apron pocket to begin her work. "A competition you say? Interesting choice..."
 
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"Yes!" She said excitedly, her voice once again ringing a bit louder than it probably should have.

Apparently forgetting about the whole 'spying' thing.

"We need an armor of gold." She said, pointing towards Soleil and then towards herself. "Black robes."

Gold and Black had long been the colors of Anirius, or at least that was what had been told in the old tales. It was why the Royal House of Anireth still claimed it as their own colors. "With a crown! No! Wait."

She said, looking at the man. "A helmet that looks like a crown."

For a few seconds the man in front of the two girls just stared at them. His eyes seemed to flicker between the two of them, as if processing, and then his lips broke out into a smile wider than than even Soleil's, or at least it looked it on his face.

"My gods. You two girls have set me a challenge a tailor can only dream of!"​
 
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Caeso's amusement remained. It was a shame that he and Fennec had yet to be assigned to a mission together; her interactions with normal folk were splendid to behold. Though he had little doubt a close eye would have to be kept on her, and not just for the sake of those normal folk whose perilous fortune it was to cross her path. Fennec had a grisly reputation when it came to her fellow Initiates, and no mistake.

Caeso as well set aside his accoutrements, his own light armor and weapons, down to his base layer of a white tunic and earth-toned pants.

Fennec stepped up onto the pedestal first, and Caeso stood by for his turn, waiting as Leora began the task of measuring.

"One cannot remove the ferocity of a tiger," he said by way of analogy, "even if one places it in a different environment."

The cubs, so to speak, being given to the Academy these days, however? That same ferocity which had been relentlessly fostered in him, in Fennec, in Soleil, and yes even in Mieri, would, in his opinion, be conspicuously absent.

Fennec
 
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Soleil only smiled wider and wider as Mieri added more specifications to what they needed. As if in support of this gesture, fissures split open at the sides of her lips—though they went rogue and spiraled straight up her cheeks instead of in smooth twin crescents, making her smile appear in that brief moment highly unnatural. The fissures sealed.

Then, purposefully loud, she said, "Our costume? Better than theirs!"

She pointed over toward Caeso and Fennec. Looked their way and then, after a second of processing what gesture might be considered infuriating, she smirked.

Then she looked back to the blue-haired man.

"You? Make!"

Mieri Fennec
 
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If the blue haired man was at all put off by the strangeness of Soleil's smile he didn't show an ounce of it. Instead his enthusiasm seemed almost fueled by those of the two girls before him.

"Yes!"​

He shouted, which Mieri mimicked. "YES!"

"YEEEEEEES!"​

The sounds of their voices echoed through the shop, and when the costumier looked over towards his partner Leore was temporarily paused in her works. Staring with silent disapproval at the shouting towards the other end of the shop.

A brief cough echoed from his throat, and he shook his head. Motioning over towards the two pedestals at the other end of the room.

"If you dashing ladies will just step up here, preferably together."​

"Yes!" Mieri added again, immediately moving to grab Soleil and pick her up off the floor so that she could lift her over and onto her shoulders for the costumier to measure.
 
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The shouting from the other side of the shoppe drew the attention of not just Fennec, but her mystes as well. The tendrils seeped from her back in much the same manner a wolf's hackles flared along its spine, and when Leora moved to step around the girl-

"One cannot remove the ferocity of a tiger,"

Leora came face to face with a ghastly looking serpent thing and immediately startled, dropping her tools.

"even if one places it in a different environment."

The woman shot her fellow shop-keep a disapproving gaze before collecting herself. By the time she looked back at Fennec the ghoulish apparition was gone as if it had never been. Bristling, she quickly hurried to get the last of the measurements for the young girl before gesturing for her to step down, "All finished."

Fennec stared at her, silent as the grave, then promptly departed the pedestal to don her effects.

"Your turn," Leora said to Caeso with a fresh smile, "I've seen method actors before but your little friend certainly takes it to another level."

[Ask about the masks] Fennec signed at Caeso from behind Leora.
 
"YES!" Soleil mimicked as well, bellowing the word as loud as, if not louder than, Mieri and the Blue Man.

She never needed to understand why these behaviors occurred, or even what they truly signified. Observation of body language to match corresponding emotions and imitating that where appropriate was enough. Sometimes she got it wrong. It did not seem so here.

Nevertheless, she smiled, and that wasn't an imitation.

Over to the pedestals.

Mieri picked her up, and that wouldn't take hardly any effort at all—Soleil weighed about a third of what she looked like she should weigh. She had to mess around with her dress some, reforming the Sandform-afflicted cloth into pseudo pants, but Soleil sat on Mieri's shoulders easily enough.

"Our height?" Soleil said to Mieri. "Terrifying! Us? Biggest Initiate now. Sable? Crying. Jealous!"

Mieri
 
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Caeso did his best to ignore the orgasmic shouts on the other side of the shop. Whatever buffoonery Mieri and Soleil were on about could stay well over there.

Standing in front of Fennec as he was, Caeso did not see the mystes which poked out from her back. He heard Leora drop her tape and tools and he just smirked briefly, thinking the woman to be still affected by the fright of moments ago. It was best that Leora was here, working in this profession in which she was very capable, knowing essentially nothing of the Dreadlords nor the Academy. Perhaps the fright might have the side effect of reminding her, however subtly, of this fortune.

Caeso stepped up onto the pedestal, lifting his arms up and out to his sides.

"The true aptness of what you have said is unknown even to one such as I."

He saw Fennec's signing.

"Leora, will you be able to craft the masks according to our specifications? Or will you have to refer us to another expert?"

Fennec
 
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Mieri let out a bubbly laugh, her head shaking. "Yeah!"

She said with no small amount of mirth in her voice. Spreading out her arms as the costumier began to take their measurements. His movements so exacting and quick that she had a small amount of trouble actually following him.

"They'll be scared shitless." She giggled quietly. "Ooo."

Mieri intoned suddenly. "We can use this for pranks after!"

The moment she said the words the costumier froze. He took a loooong step back away from the two girls and stared directly at Mieri. His look was a mask of utter and complete disapproval, head slowly beginning to shake as he spoke.

"Madame, a costume such as this is not for pranks. It is for performance. For ART!"​

Mieri hesitated for a moment, then looked up at Soleil and sloooooooowly winked.
 
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"Make them?" Leora suddenly seemed to forget all about her fright, "well of course I can make them, but I gather I won't need to. We costume that play every year and I have a collection of their masks in storage. You can get the real things."

There was excitement to her tone but she kept it low, "Would you like to see them?"

Now that got Fennec's attention and she nodded with feverish certainty - her approximation of excitement.

"Alright, well I've got everything here I need, so if you both will meet me at the back over there when you're ready."

[Original masks,] Fennec signed to Caeso as he redressed, [that will greatly enhance reception of our performance. Nostalgia is a gullible emotion.]
 
"For art only," Soleil said, outwardly agreeing with the Blue Man. She did not return the wink from Mieri, though she did see it.

Lying was a useful tool, if used correctly, and Soleil had found from a young age that she could lie effortlessly and gain whatever advantage she sought from doing so. People, in general, had a tendency to believe what is said at face value—an easy observation to make. The strongest Archon in Vel Anir could be tricked with a lie if he could not verify it. So in a way, lies were more powerful than magic. They let you shape the social world around you.

And for Soleil, often she had to make an effort to blend in to her surroundings, but in other cases, she could make her surroundings conform to her will.

Now to guide the Blue Man away from his objection about using the costume for pranks.

"Us? Need big crown! You make?"

Mieri
 
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A quick affair, the measuring. Caeso stepped down from the pedestal and was collecting his things when he saw Fennec's signing. A fair point. Perhaps if they could get their hands on masks from the earliest iteration of the play it would appeal to whatever judges (surely esoteric artistic types who knew much, almost too much, of theatre) Captain Odal and Proctor Melina might have as part of the audience.

Walking in the wake of Leora's guidance toward the storage room, Caeso said, "I would ask of you, Leora, to show us the oldest versions of the masks you have available. Why, should fortune favor us, seeing the original masks from the play's premier would be grand."

Caeso glanced sidelong to Fennec. Smirked. And signed, Cost is no object.

Indeed, even if the total amount of all this exceeded the stipend given to them, Caeso could call upon the backing of his family to ensure that Mieri and Soleil were crushed in production value alone.

Fennec
 
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"I can make such a thing."​

The man said, stroking a hand over his chin. He briefly glanced over towards the other group who seemed to be about to move towards the back. There was a brief second of consideration, and then he leaned in towards the two girls conspiratorially.

His voice was low, quiet as he addressed the stack of Initiates.

"This is a competition, yes? You wish to win?"​

Mieri raised an eyebrow slowly. "Yes..."

There was a sense of dubiousness to the word, as though she wasn't quite sure what it was this man was getting at. Then after a moment he nodded and continued.

"I can make you a crown, it will be a great crown, but...what if I can get you a magic crown?"​

Mieri’s eyes grew wide, as though she were a child that had just stepped into a candy shop. Her gaze lingered on the man for only a moment, and then she briefly looked up at Soleil where she assumed she would be met with complete agreement.
 
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Cost is no object.

A line Fennec had been fed before when it came to missions. Proctor Harkenov could not be said to be a generous woman, but it seemed her benefactor was. When a task required new equipment or expenses there never seemed to be a shortage of coin to back it. Fennec had no mind for money or riches - if she couldn't get what she needed, she'd find a way to take it. Fortunately with Caeso's wallet there seemed little need for bloodshed or death.

Effective, if a bit boring.

"Some of the masks were lost during the Revolution," Leora admitted sadly, "our building caught fire during the battle. I can't be certain which masks it was, but we'll see what we can find."

The area in the back was near as big as the store itself and broken into various sections for materials and supplies, crafting, and storage. Leora walked them through dozens of bodices dressed in varying ensembles of outfit in varying stages of make or repair. Next came rows of boxes and crates, reams of cloth spilling out the tops. Beads, jewelry, adornments, pelts and furs, and so many feathers!

Then in the far back open wardrobes neatly filled with costumes and outfits. Shelves lined with boots and hats, fittings for womens dresses, grand stylized sets for popular stage shows ... and at the far end a veritable wall of masks.

"Here we are," Leora smiled as she moved to the left to pull over a rolling ladder, "this row is all the masks we have from that production. The oldest are at the top. And look," she moved to the section at the very bottom, "this year's masks. No one else has seen them yet but us and the Director's team."

Fennec approached to take a closer look. All the masks were in grayscale in accordance with the play's costumes, but these masks were quite ornate and decorated. Likely to go along with some frivolous new fashion among the court.

[They should be used as kindling to burn the Director at the stake.]
 
Soleil shifted her gaze sidelong over to Mieri, a swirl of excitement in the gleaming desert hue of her eyes. It would be a big crown and a magic crown. It might be heavy to wear (Soleil knew she wasn't strong like Mieri) but it would be impressive. They were representing Anirius. It had to be impressive.

And when they won, they could beat Caeso with it. Make it look like an accident, of course.

Soleil looked to the Blue Man and asked, "What kind magic?"

Mieri
 
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Caeso had one hand behind his back, the other perched under his chin in ostensible consideration of the wall of the masks. With the hand behind his back he signed in response to Fennec: Fads are awful.

"This year's Director is more than welcome to those at the bottom,"
Caeso said to Leora. "As for us, we will concern ourselves with the ones at the top."

Caeso reached up and took one of the masks. Hm, no, it would be just a bit too small for him. He tried another. It was his second choice, sure, but it had been made for an actor about his size so it actually fit him, this without making him look like an ogre trying to attend a masquerade. It would do fine.

Caeso would help Fennec where needed for the masks she was interested in trying. Before long, they each had what they would require in hand.

Caeso signed to Fennec: These will invoke tradition. Prestige. And with a sideways nod toward the more garish masks lined up for the contemporary version of the old play, Something these cannot.

In a sense, what he and Fennec held in their hands were small representations of a familiar idea.

The old way. Albeit one of theatre rather than the Academy.

Fennec
 
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There was not a hint of dubiousness to the way Mieri looked at the shopkeeper. At this point in her head the man was trying to help them win the competition. Any advice he had to offer, and any gift he wanted to give she would gladly accept.

"The best kind." The shopkeeper said, moving in closer to speak conspiritorially with the two girls. "The kind that helps you make an impression, the kind that captures and audience and makes them wonder about the truth of what they have just seen."

She couldn't help but feel the thrill of enthusiasm still beating in her chest. "Yes."

Mieri said, glancing at Soleil.

"Yes, we want it." The Shopkeeper grinned wide, nodding his head before he quickly looked back and around to where his partner was. For a moment he lingered, and then quickly departed from the Initiate's sides.

"This is great!" Mieri said excitedly. "The costume will be awesome, we'll have a magic crown. No way this won't be awesome."

The Initiate said just as the shopkeeper returned. In his hand was a box, which three large locks upon it. He turned a key in each one, and there was a quiet snap as the box popped open and revealed what appeared to be a very basic and simplistic mask.

Reaching in, the shopkeeper grasped it in his hands, placing the box down onto the floor. Then with a smile he looked at Mieri and Soleil. A second passed, and the mask seemed to shift, turning from a plain wooden face into a crown of iron beset with bright jewels.
 
These masks would, indeed, cost them a pretty coin, especially since they technically weren't supposed to be offered for sale. Leora seemed to have a bit of sentimental attachment to them, but for their cause she was happy to see them go - at the right price. Fennec offered a cheaper means of their end goal, but as it turned out murdering the shopkeep would have been frowned upon.

A pity, she could have made her death a work of art.


Several days later...

The day was overcast and dark clouds on the horizon threatened a downpour. No rain yet, though rain rarely made a difference for the routine or expectations of the Initiates. Fennec met with Caeso after classes, angry that a mission she had been looking forward to was now given to some idiot (Leander Urahil) instead so as not to interfere with her Big Brother project.

So, already in a foul mood, she begrudgingly rehearsed with him. The true form of Risen City: The First Dreadlord, when performed by professionals, was over two hours long. Given the constraints of the project, this forced them to create an abridged edition that touched upon the main and more memorable plot points within an hour. Preferably less. Fennec played various roles, switching through masks for each while Caeso narrated and also filled the role as the star of the play: the First Dreadlord.
 
There was a gleam in Soleil's eyes like the first light of dawn upon the deserts of Amol-Kalit. The mask, boring and wooden and simple, shifted before their eyes in illusory fashion. It changed. Adapted. And Soleil appreciated that very much.

She looked to Mieri, the skin of her face rippling with excitement. And she all but purred to her partner in representing Anirius, luxuriously tasting all the syllables of the words, "Magic~ crown~..."

She beamed with sly delight.

"Fit for a god."

* * * * *​

That overcast day with those dark clouds overhead at the Academy. The area set up for them, mock stage and all, was a training arena furthest away from most of the foot traffic and activity in the Academy, and thus was outside. Normally on a day like this, Soleil wouldn't spend any more time than necessary outside going from place to place—cloak or no cloak to shield her from the potential rain. But today, an impulse got the better of her.

"Booooo!" she called, hands cupped around her mouth, as she waltzed into the training area turned stage interrupting Caeso's and Fennec's current session of practice.

"You? Stupid masks. Us? Mighty crown!"

Mieri Fennec
 
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Proctor Melina and Captain Odal seemed, thank Kress, to have the awareness that the practice sessions for the plays ought to be as out of sight as possible from the other Initiates. Many of his and Fennec's peers simply wouldn't be able to understand the majesty of theatre, wouldn't be persuaded out of their lack of taste by any rhetoric, and their chiding remarks could only to be quelled by brutish means—the language they understood. Thankfully, Caeso did not need to vacate anyone's mouth of teeth thus far.

"Booooo!"

And then Soleil showed up. Spewing her drivel.

Caeso, not amused, paused in his practice. Fennec had shown up to practice in a foul mood, and it was all Caeso could do to be a stolid counterbalance in the attempt to assuage said foulness of mood and to have a smooth practice; but now with Soleil butting in, his irritation flared up to match Fennec's own.

"And what is the meaning of this then?" Caeso said, taking of his mask to look at the girl of his ire more directly. "Come to make what pithy insults as you are able before your shallow performance proves you and that red-headed dolt to be rubes as well as imbeciles? Hurry, girl, your time is fleeting for such boorish behavior, for the night of performance is soon to come and it is I and Fennec who shall make you eat all your ill-mannered words."

Mieri Fennec
 
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"BWAAAAAP" A rather obnoxious noise left Mieri's lips as she came from the other side of the courtyard. A box clutched tightly to her chest that was larger than her entire torso. A wide smile practically beaming on her face.

"Stage foul!" She shouted in that horrendously chipper tone, walking up towards the stage and more specifically towards Soleil. The smile on her face bright and beaming as always. "You're not supposed to talk to the audience, Caeso!"

Mieri said, apparently not having heard, or simply ignoring that Soleil had been the instigator in all of this.

Coming up besides her mentee she hefted the box. "Proctor Melina gave me this."

She said, putting the box onto the ground. A thud echoed as it fell to the floor, indicating that it was actually quite heavier than one would think with someone as small as Mieri carrying it.

"I think it's our costumes!" Mieri chirped excitedly. "We can properly rehearse now!"

She and Soleil had practiced, obviously, but mostly memorizing lines and stage points. Now they'd get to do the difficult part; doing it in full costume.
 
As if this day could not get any more abhorrent.

Fennec set a deathly stare upon the approach of Soleil and Mieri, slowly drawing herself up straight from her poised position where her current character portrayal had been about to attempt to run Caeso through. Her gaze, lividly piercing through her own mask, switched between the two and then over to her stage partner as he deigned to lavish them with his extended lexicon.

She doubted Mieri even understood half the words he spoke and she wanted to communicate as much until Mieri pronounced the arrival of their costumes. Fennec's gaze landed on the chest.

Had they would packaged and sent both team's costumes together?

A sideglance shifted to Caeso as she lightly nudged the boy with her elbow, [Have you received ours separately?]