Private Tales Graceless and Divine

[Kilien Basmarc]

"Sounds fancy," Kilien remarked as he casually strode down through the aisles, ducking through greenery and twitching his nose at the overwhelming smell of earth. He paused somewhere in the middle, hands balled into fists in his pockets, eyes slowly roving from one corner and table and trellis to the next.

"Not seeing too many ...fleurs," most everything here was green or varying shades thereof. A few plants off toward the back were darker shades of purple which struck him as odd.

"So what else did Dad Academy teach you?"

 

[Vittoria Larrainth]

Declaring this first greenhouse to be not what they were after, Vittoria makes her way back to the door. She regarded Kilien with a look, indescribable as most expressions on her face were. "He taught me the best places to stick a knife through to slow down or mortally wound an opponent."

She held the door open for him, a hand gesturing for him to walk through. "Helped establish me as dangerous as soon as I came here to the Academy. You have seen our class. They are only lucky the Revolution happened and now protects them."

Protects him.

The Proctors were about preserving numbers now, and that meant Vittoria could not cull those weak and holding them back.

 

[Kilien Basmarc]

In no particular hurry and given the new scenery, his steps were winding and slow through the aisles as he perused the many plants whilw he made his way over to her and the open door. Heavy brows arched at her words, "Wow," Kilien remarked, "what a dad."

"Pancakes and murder. Breakfast at home must have really been sumthin' else," and without any hestitation whatsoever, he strode right by her and whistled as he walked into the next green house. Senses accosted by pollen and the sweetness of nectar, Kil blinked at the assailing variety of colors and patterns all around.

Lots of fleurs in here.

"So did you top your pancakes with the blood of your enemies instead of syrup?"

 

[Vittoria Larrainth]

Vittoria was amused with his continued inquiry. It was much different to that of those poking fun at her, but his curiosity was not to find out what made her this way.

Following him into the second greenhouse, she stepped around him in order to look over the flowers. Her nose crinkled, fighting off a sneeze, but she knew it was best to take her time in here looking.

"I like blueberries and wild honey on my pancakes. Sometimes i like melting sugar on one side to get a nice crust to it." She peered at him over her shoulder. "I prefer things with bite than soft things. So fruits are a good way for that... or the caramelised sugar gives a satisfying crunch."

 

[Kilien Basmarc]

"Blueberries," Kilien remarked with an upturn in tone, then looked ponderous for a moment as he itched at his beard, "too rich for my plate. Closest I can get to blueberries is rat poop."

He grinned, "That's got a different kind of bite."

What were they in here for? Oh, right, fleurs. He kicked off in the opposite direction to cover more ground in a lazy stroll. "There's these red berries that grow on the edges of wheat fields on big ol' bramble bushes. City folk won't eat em cause they make you sick so they just leave em for the birds."

"They're pretty tasty. They'd probably go real well on pancakes."

 

[Vittoria Larrainth]

"And? Do these red berries make you ill?"

Fascination, or close to it in regards to Vittoria, laced in her naturally pleasant voice. Her eyes were trained on the flora occupying this greenhouse, searching for sometjing of the likeness illustrated in the book she had been leafing through earlier.

 

[Kilien Basmarc]

He found himself strolling down an aisle between blooms of yellow, purple, pink, and white. All different shapes and various patterns of colors, the scents ranged from bitter to sweet and everything in between. His nose could tell the differences, though he doubted Vittoria's could.

"Hmm," he rumbed in thought, brow furrowing as he sifted through his memories, lifting his pointer finger to swipe hair from his face as he bent to sniff at a frilly pink flower, "only the first time," though for some reason he wasn't sure if the sick had been from the berries or from eating after a long stint of starvation, "after that-" Kilien righted himself and visibly patted his belly, "all snack."

"This the one?" his hand dropped from his head to point at a section of plants that were only just starting to bloom small white flowers. Kilien scrunched his nose, "Smells like butter."

 

[Vittoria Larrainth]

Vittoria crossed over towards him, navigating through the many wooden stands and benches housing potted plants. "Butter?" Her brows twitched inwards, the space between them wrinkling as the unfamiliar note he gave did not reach her nose. "Yarrow is supposed to smell like fresh pine..." A scent she loved herself.

She fell to one knee, hand tentatively taking a bunch and pulling it towards her nose. "Hm..." Thumb and forefinger crushed a few flowers and smelled again, but Vittoria came away shaking her head. She lifted her head, staring at him from where she knelt. "I believe your mind is rather occupied by the idea of pancakes, dear Basmarc." And finally, the first hint of a genuine smile lifted at the corners of her mouth.

 

[Kilien Basmarc]

Kilien's stomach audibly growled.

He glanced down and thrummed his fingers over it, "What can I say, I'm a hungry guy." Her smile was returned by a lopsided smirk of his own. It lingered for a moment on her kneeling figure before his hand lifted from his belly to the mane of wild browns and pushed it fully from his face, "Fresh pine?"

That would be a unique scent in a greenhouse of blooming flowers for certain.

With a sniff, he clasped his hands together, cracked his knuckles, and then shook them free, "I can find that."

Having such an ... intimate relationship with the wilds, his nose was more than adept at finding specific scents. Even this far from a full moon, he'd have been able to track Vittoria across the entire campus grounds just on the scent of her shampoo alone. Speaking of which, after a few sniffs he shooshed her away with a dismissive wave, "Gonna need you to stand over there. The scent of a woman is very distracting."

 

[Vittoria Larrainth]

Vittoria rose, as did the scowl on her face. She was not aware she had a scent, but as she dutifully began to walk some ways away from his distracted nose, the memory of her run popped up, followed by combat training before breakfast. There had been some time before her first meal of the day, and alas, she had bathed and taken the time to wash her hair and running oils through it.

Ocean hued eyes watched her classmate, curious to watch him do something she had never seen before. Despite the heavy inhalations through his nose, trying to find that scent that will get them closer to completing their project together, his strangeness did not deter her. Vittoria simply waited near the door, watching to see this bloodhound at work.

"Fascinating." A comment that was begrudgingly uttered past her lips, as she could no longer stand any silence between them. "So very... curious to watch you find yarrow with simply your nose."

 

[Kilien Basmarc]

Kilien closed his eyes as she moved away and for the first time since they met for this project: focused on the task at hand. A long, slow, deep inhale brought the amalgamation of greenhouse scents through. Every bloom, every plant, the substrate within which they were potted, the smell of the water condensation along the inside of the structure, the stone floor slabs upon which they walked, and yes - even Vittoria's own brand remained to take in.

"Oh this nose can smell all kinds of things..." he replied, glancing over and bobbing his brows at her conspiratorially. He'd have happily told her what she'd eaten for breakfast that morning, who she'd trained with, a smattering of the ingredients that made up her favorite bath soaps and oils, and how many days away from her period she was - all for the asking. But she didn't, so he kept his yap shut.

With languid and unhurried movements, Kilien began making his way down the aisle, stopping every so often to waft and inhale again. Towards the far end, his head snapped to the right and his nostrils flared. Without hesitation and with far more purpose, the Initiate's feet began to follow his nose. He disappeared behind a wall of huge ferns and fronds.

"Oh ho ho ho hoooo-" Vittoria would hear shortly after, "Proctor Schantz has a stash!"

 

[Vittoria Larrainth]

Vittoria scowled.

She began stalking towards him, a dangerous cloud darkening her expression. "No yarrow then?"

He had began to make himself look competent, to be something of use to Vittoria if a time ever came that she would need something found. His potential was forgotten when his mind became distracted again, and her hand grasped him at his bicep and squeezed.

Pulling him to face her, Vittoria bore into him a stern gaze. "Our assignment first, Basmarc. Only after that are you allowed to do as you please." And not waste any more of her time. Threats did not seem like they would work on him, not like they would on any other of their classmates. The terror she could incite in Sabrina could not work the same on Kilien.

She was still figuring him out, after all.

 

[Kilien Basmarc]

Vittoria got herself a Kilien with two potted plants, one in either hand. "A stash of yarrow," he smugged at her and wiggled both pots until the flowers danced.

With a nod of his head he gestured toward the rack that had been stood behind the ferns where nearly a dozen more pots of yarrow sat.

 

[Vittoria Larrainth]

Never had she felt a slight of anger become diminished so easily, but her scowl never faltered.

But she never needed an excuse to exercise her annoyance. Her hand never lessened in grip, perhaps only tighter as he looked smugly at her. In a low voice, one equipped with sharp edge to her words, Vittoria dropped her gaze to the potted yarrow he held. "I must check in the case of your nose having failed you."

Larrainth leaned in, turning her head down towards the flat-topped cluster of white flowers.

She pulled away, another small smile twitching at her lips. "Smells like fresh pine."

 

[Kilien Basmarc]

"Yeah, I thought so, too," Kilien agreed, voice light as he nodded and his smug smile grew wider.

He made no effort or move to disengage, relatively pleased with his present state of being manhandled by a pretty lady. "But between you and me," leaning in closer to her face, he lowered his voice to a rough whisper, "Proctor Schantz keeps his other stash in the broken water pail on the top shelf of the supply rack."

Wink. Smirk. He wiggled the flower she sniffed just under her cute little scowl, "So what's next?"

 

[Vittoria Larrainth]

Vittoria dropped her hand from him and took several steps back, scowling deeper as the flowers had tickled her nose, in which she refused to itch it.

She gave him one last scathing look before turning around or the door. "We go somewhere to work on our assignment. Take notes."

But not the library. She did not want any other classmates taking the extracurricular class to know what they were working on. They would need somewhere quiet, away from prying eyes. She knew better than to voice this aloud, knowing he was the type to make a suggestive comment. If she were an imbecile, like Initiate Eliza Wylls, she probably would have blushed at the idea of a boy charming her.

Vittoria was not easily fooled.

"There's a classroom no one uses anymore. We can go there."

 

[Kilien Basmarc]

"A classroom no one uses anymore..." Kilien mused aloud as he followed with the flower pots, "hm."

One would think there wasn't a shortage of boring subjects to teach and fill classrooms with, and yet there it was. He wondered quietly to himself how many other students had come to use the classroom for their own extracurricular activities.

"Funny how much use abandoned places tend to see..." his eyes shifted upward to look at the sky as they exited the greenhouse, "such a nice day out. Pity to waste good weather when it's so quiet and peaceful."

Kilien smacked his lips as he nodded, looking about the grounds surrounding the lower fields beyond the greenhouses, "Emp-ty."

 

[Vittoria Larrainth]

"And risk other groups seeing which poison we chose? I would not like to give them the edge." She responded shaking her head. Her hair gave off a healthy sheen in the sunlight, thanks to the oils she had used earlier in the day.

"Besides Basmarc," she looked to him, gaze narrowing, "how could anyone wish to work in this heat?"

It certainly was a warmer day than the last few days, and in the sun, it bore down a little more without a cloud in the sky.

"Unless you have an idea of a cool spot, perhaps I may be listening."

 

[Kilien Basmarc]

This one certainly worked her paranoia. Kilien raised his brows in consideration to her concerns but couldn't bring himself to meet the level of intensity for them. Other initiates? Spying on them? Well, he was a pretty interesting guy if he did say so himself but he could hardly fathom the others going out of their way to watch them stare at a few flowers all day long.

"Heat?" he blinked, looked up at the bright blue sky and winced into the sun. The heat didn't bother him but he had the skin for it. His gaze panned back to Larrinth and her peerless porcelain. Oh, maybe she burned easily? Well, that was no good.

"Mm," he'd have itched at his head in thought if he weren't holding two flower pots. Instead he gently swished them side to side, "yeah, I know a place."

Didn't wait for her approval or expand on details, Kilien simply turned and headed off in the direction of the woods.

 

[Vittoria Larrainth]

It was less the heat or the sun baking them, but her complexion was a more darker shade than most Initiates. She could turn a dark olive complexion in this sun, but she did not want to sweat and cause more distraction for his nose. In order to get this assignment complete, she needed him all to herself for a few hours to ensure he stayed on task.

She did not want to be seen, to be disturbed.

Kilien was the type others would greet, or he to them. No one greeted her unless it was King or Grendel, even Norah seemed to brave nodding to her in the hallways.

Luckily for them, the old building housing two classrooms was being used to store weapons used for trainjng sessions. They were blunt, having not been sharpened or fixed in some time. She had probably used more than one of these when she first came to the Academy.

"Sit." Vittoria gestured for him to take a seat at one of the desks cleared. She perched herself on a desk opposite, watching him with her eyes.

 

[Kilien Basmarc]

"Yes ma'am," he replied, locking his eyes with her as he set the two potted plants down on another desk and made himself comfortable atop the desk she'd indicated. Looked rather pleased with himself to be doing so.

Amused, even.

 

[Vittoria Larrainth]

Vittoria matched his amusement, sitting taller as she lifted the strap to her satchel that crossed over her torso. "We should test this yarrow. Show how it can heal and then perhaps find a way to work with the poison."

From her forearm, she produced a knife hidden with her first magic, Concealment. It was one of her larger blades of the twelve she kept hidden on her person, but no blood had been drawn from her flesh. She opened a palm and dragged a shallow cut across.

"Yarrow slows bleeding."

 

[Kilien Basmarc]

The blade trick wasn't new but it hadn't stopped being interesting. All the initiates were interesting to him for many reasons, Vittoria included. Kilien watched, brows slowly drifting upward beneath his windlicked locks, eyes honing in on the deep scarlet pooling in her palm. Something in his chest issued a low rumble, though it may have come across as a thoughtful hum to her study plan.

She was lucky it was two weeks away from the full moon or he might not have been sitting on that desk for much longer. Still, the thought of grabbing her by the wrist and lapping up that red slithered loosely through the back of his beastly mind.

Kilien's gaze flickered upwards to meet hers once more and held it intently for a long moment.

"Alright," his right hand rolled, cracking wrist bones, and spooled open to reach for one of the potted plants, "how's this work?"

 

[Vittoria Larrainth]

Vittoria gave him a smile, the kind that had no warmth as if the muscles pulling at her face were operating on instinct and not memory.

"Chew a few flowers into paste and apply to the wound. Or if you would prefer to be the first example." Vittoria twirled the knife in hand and handed him the hilt. "I can show you how it is done?"

After all, she was not going to have them fail this extracurricular class. Her academic scores were perfect, as was everything else she sought after in life.

 

[Kilien Basmarc]

"Keep your claws, kitty," he replied with a glance at her proffered blade, "I'll just skew your results."

It wasn't a secret that he healed quite a bit faster than most. He rarely went to the medical wing for aid and even grievous wounds only saw him out of commission for a fraction of the time. During sparring sessions when Initiates came out battered and bloody, Kilien was often well on his way to healed. Bruises rarely lasted past an hour. Cuts would be gone after two.

He once suffered a shattered hand from a sledge hammer in weapons training and was back to boxing the very next day. Magic certainly healed fast, but compound and complex fractures still took more time than that.

Instead he reached into an inner pocket of his leather coat and withdrew a kerchief - curiously clean despite his otherwise unkempt appearance, and pressed it gently into her open and bleeding palm to sop up the blood, "Here, don't get blood on your nice clothes."

Then turned his attention to the yarrow. Scooching back on the desk to make room, he set the pot on the open desk space between his legs. It wasn't a large plant by any means and even just trying to pluck off one stem took the whole thing out, rootball and all. With a grunt, Kil brandished the thing off to the side to free it of loose dirt and then lifted it up toward his face.

Well, she said flowers so... he popped an entire section into his mouth and then he began to chew. Took some time to get through the tougher parts, his brow furrowed and nose twitched at the rise of a faint burning sensation on his tongue.

"Bit peppewy-" he mouthed through it, not a stranger to spice or the heat it brought, though it was growing steadily stronger with each passing minute. As the flowers ground into paste, he rolled it all together on his tongue and then pressed it all against the backside of his front teeth.

"Okie dokie-" he minced, long canines clamped and bared as he reached forward for either side of her desk, "c'mere."

SKREEEEEEEEECH.

He pulled her, desk and all, across the aisle to sit knees between his own, right before him. Tonguing the paste ball onto the back of his left hand, Kilien swiped half of it onto the pointer finger of his right and looked at her expectantly.