Private Tales Graceless and Divine

[Kilien Basmarc]

Magic taste. That got him looking pensive.

Had he ever tasted magic? If he had, it must not have left much of an impression upon him because he was a man of seemingly endless hunger and he liked his food in all its various forms.

Maybe it had something more to do with the matter of how he manifested his own magic. Vittoria, like every other Initiate, channeled her powers through her own being so it made sense that vestiges of it would be caught in the mouth. Similar to how one can taste a heavy scent on the air... He, meanwhile, channeled his own through an external implement and bypassed that potential entirely.

"I'm not sure," he admitted as he cut another large chunk of flapjack and rolled it over itself with the fork for an easier mouthful, "if it does, it's not as good as this."

Aumph. He smiled while he chewed (mouth closed because a lady was present).

 

[Vittoria Larrainth]

Already working on the third pancake, Vittoria busied herself by dressing her own pancake the way she had done with Kilien's. She plucked a honey drenced blueberry and slowly placed it in her mouth as she gave Kilien a rare smile.

"I would be happy to demonstrate the taste of magic for you one day." Words of a threat, and yet the smile that reached her eyes spoke of an innocence that was hard to place with Larrainth. She turned around to inspect the next pancake, giving it a couple more minutes.

"Well, does the honey and blueberries pair nicely?"

 

[Kilien Basmarc]

"Yeah?" that got a freshly raised brow out of him for the offer, "Alright then, it's a date."

Smirk.

His pancake and all the accoutrements thereof were gone with the next bite, "It's great," Kilien replied after a gulp and gestured vaguely to the bits and bobs of her work with his fork, "All of it. Best pancakes I've ever had. I'd eat a dozen more."

 

[Vittoria Larrainth]

The third pancake was readily loaded onto his plate, and the fourth already being made.

Vittoria placed some blueberries on top and then began to drizzle the honey woth the sipping stick, watching the amber fall in thing strands over the course she made. "The last time my father made me pancakes was the day I was to leave for the Academy. I was newly turned nine years old when he deemed me ready and escorted me here himself. But... you... you came to the Academy a short while ago."

To keep conversation going, she slid him the new plate of pancake. "Before that?"

 

[Kilien Basmarc]

Seems she meant to feed him a dozen more and he wasn't going to stop her.

"Nine, wow," he remarked before another forkful fell victim to his appetite. He peered at her, eyes narrowing as his fork hovered over the plate, "I bet you were cute as a kid."

As for himself? Cut cut, fold, stuff, chew. Nod.

"Yeah, I came here shortly after the revolution. Twoooo years ago? I was seventeen. I uh," another glance her way, "I was in prison before that."

 

[Vittoria Larrainth]

"Prison!" It did not deter her, cutting a perfect square of her pancake and raising it to her mouth. Vittoria's lips curled back from her teeth and bared them as she opened her mouth to eat, cleanly scraping her perfect teeth over the fork prongs and began to chew the mixture of sweet and berries.

"I wonder, Basmarc, if sending you here to the Academy was another sentence." Glee lit up her eyes, even if her face fell into the blank expression she often wore. "What were you in for?"

 

[Kilien Basmarc]

"That's sort of what it feels like, yeah."

He'd be the first to admit he wasn't exactly content at the Academy. With no intention of ever becoming a Dreadlord, the time he spent here was all but wasted on everyone else. For now he'd glean what bits of knowledge and experience that held any value to him he could, and then?

Well, then he'd be getting long out of dodge. Way out into the big wide yonder.

"Piracy," he began, eyes turning upwards thoughtfully as he lifted his fork-hand to count off on on his fingers, "threatening members of the Royal Navy with their own weapons, theft of a gaggle of geese from a wading pond outside of Briston, threatening members of the Royal Navy with said gaggle of geese, looting, arson, theft of a Noble's carriage, possessing an unlawful quantity of barley and hops, pillaging, cavorting with soothsayers, extortion, smuggling..." the rings on his fingers glinted as he counted back and forth, "oh, and impersonating a man of the cloth."

 

[Vittoria Larrainth]

His list she listened to as she brought over the fourth pancake, decorating the single stack with furrowed brows.

Goodness, it sounded as if he inconvenienced the wrong people. "And what age were all these misdemeanours committed? Surely over the course of a few years, Basmarc?"

A question for a pancake. It was becoming an easy exchange of information.

 

[Kilien Basmarc]

"I honestly don't remember," his hand pressed his eyebrows up before shuffling back through his hair, "after a few years it all became a blur of cells and bars. Would still be there if it weren't for the Revolution."

A few more bites and his plate was once more clean.

"Guess they thought I'd be more use here," his expression did not give the impression that he agreed.

 

[Vittoria Larrainth]

She had only eaten half of her pancake before sliding it towards him to finish as she turned around to put another readily into the pan. With her back turned to him, Vittoria continued her questions. "Then I must take it that you do not intend to become a Dreadlord? Nor join the Guard or Knights..." she turned her frame enough to peer at him, her gaze assessing him a good few moments. "Exile."

She turned to monitor the fresh pancake. "What I wonder is if you would stick around for graduation and make that choice or if I will be on the tracking team to find you as a deserter."

Vittoria wandered back to the table, a hand slowly picking her way through the punnet of blueberries to eat.

 

[Kilien Basmarc]

"Your guess is as good as mine," Kil spread his hands as if to leave it all up to fate, "my abilities do not extend to prescience or fortune telling." Though he knew a few people who could, he wasn't sure he wanted to know. There were far too many ugly complications to guess that his future held anything exceptionally good.

"You learn to take things one day at a time when you never know if your neck will be the next in the noose."

The pancakes just kept on coming. He dug into the next one, completely careless of the fact that it was already half eaten.

"Is that your plan then? Go full Dreadlord? Join the Guard? Be the Heroine of Vel Anir?"

 

[Vittoria Larrainth]

Another pancake presented to him, although this time she stole the blueberries for herself.

"Dreadlord, Heroine, Archon." She looked pleased, squishing the small berry in between her teeth slowly and wiping the juice that fell past her lip with a thumb. "I was born with power, and I will keep working my way to more."

It was addictive, feeling the thrums of her magic when she casted it. Vittoria leaned onto the table, resting her elbows as she tilted her head to peer at the boy happily eating the food she provided. His colour had returned, but not that she was worried it would not. "Although it can leave you restless, this ambition. To witness many of our classmates shy away from their potential. Fear their power... They are horrified by what I can do, then they truly are not utilising themselves to do worse."

 

[Kilien Basmarc]

Just like magic, the instant his plate was empty it suddenly was not. Sans toppings didn't slow him down - he just ate it plain. Still a mighty fine tasting pancake all on its own. The mention of Archon earned her a whistle under raised brows. He knew what the title meant by word alone, but he'd yet to experience an Archon first hand.

"Does that fancy title come with a fancy badge?" he smiled good-naturedly and piled another forkful into his mouth.

"Well," he began after a swallow and gave pause at his plate as he realized he was actually quite thirsty, "maybe if you made everyone pancakes they might do better."

His hands set the fork and knife down for the first time since he'd sat at the table and patted over his jacket to seek out the flask hidden in one of its many pockets. Ah - there it was. Kilien eased back into his chair, slowly coming to terms with the contentment of his stomach, and nodded toward her and her frying pan, "Look what the promise of pancakes did for me."

With a smirk and a wink he tipped the flask up for a quick slug.

 

[Vittoria Larrainth]

"An act of kindness for their whining? They will think I would want to be friends." She snorted. There were only a few serves left to cook, but she was glad he had slowed down on the eating. Kilien Basmarc was still a fascinating curiosity she wished to examine, and even though he was seated opposite from her, she did not shy away from staring.

"You got pancakes because you suffered an allergic reaction. You hold more potential than many in our class, Basmarc. I could not leave you to die..." Vittoria smiled, baring her teeth in the same action. "I would prefer classmates to beg to die at my hand instead."

And would it not be poetic to see him, his blood tainted by the likes of the mutt that he was descended from, beg for her to purify Vel Anir? Just as she had purified the Larrainths from being polluted with elven blood.

 

[Kilien Basmarc]

The begging to be killed thing was a bit grim, even for himself. Kilien had been left for dead plenty of times and while he could not recall the exact circumstances of most of them, all he knew is that he'd come through on his own each time. He probably would have survived the allergic reaction.

Maybe.

"So what you're saying is," he pointed at her with his flask, "these are apology pancakes."

Because Vittoria Larrinth did not seem the type to actually apologize with words. That was fine, words were cheap.

"Well apology accepted," Kilien patted at his stomach which gave a pleased growl in return.

 

[Vittoria Larrainth]

"I can neither confirm nor deny." She said simply, pushing herself to stand upright again at her full height. Vittoria looked down at him, beginning to clean up what she could. There was no running water to this cabin, but she did not make enough mess that could not be hidden by returning items back to the large basket. "Apologies are fruitless. I was never taught the importance of it."

In her way of thinking, the pancakes were a way to ensure he was healthy enough to continue their assignment on yarrow.

Which first, they needed to each write and submit a report on the medicinal plant.

"Now that I made good on my word to feed you, it is time we return to the assignment. Too bad your reaction was not a poisoning. Would of been fascinating to watch again." If she were to overdose the yarrow on another, it would have given her opportunity to watch as they succumbed to the toxins. Vittoria would keep diligent notes, paying extra care on the symptoms of the poisoning with great detail.

 

[Kilien Basmarc]

"By my eyes and belly," he smiled satisfactorily, "those pancakes were anything but fruitless."

He held her gaze for several moments, giving no quarter to how casually she spoke of his near-death experience and missed opportunities. If nothing else, he felt bad that her hopes had been dashed to see that his suffering would afford her a good grade. Alas, allergic reaction did not good notes for poisoning make.

"So what now?" he asked, "Going to find a new project partner since this one is defective?" He was still smiling easily at her, as natural in his self deprecation as she was in her morbid humors.

 

[Vittoria Larrainth]

Vittoria quirked a brow at him, a small smile stretching across her lips before she slowly shook her head at him. "You think I would give up so easily over an allergy? No, no, Basmarc." Vittoria rounded the table and slowed by his side. She crouched down, looking to see his thigh where she had stabbed it earlier.

A finger pressed at the healed skin, but the slash in his breeches and the blood smeared over the area were the only evidence of her experiment from earlier. "A new project partner would squirm just being in my presence. At least you provide some fun to this tedious idea of a group assignment." Sated in her curiosity, Vittoria stood once again. Peering down at Kilien, still wearing that sly smile, she said to him. "We will just have to ensure you do not die while administering the yarrow onto me in our demonstration to the class, now won't we?"

 

[Kilien Basmarc]

Kilien could think of a few different reasons to squirm, especially where it came to hands poking about inside his pants, but he kept them to himself. Was nice to know he could bring something to the table, because his own grades sure as shit didn't bring anything.

A smarmy sort of smirk drifted up to her as she stood.

"I suppose I could wear protection," he remarked slyly, lifting both hands to look at them and the many rings that adorned his fingers, flipping from one side to the other, as if to inspect them, "...gloves, maybe."

His hands stopped with his palms facing him and he made a muted sound of thought, "The old crone never said anything about dying of poison so I'm sure it'll be fine."

 

[Vittoria Larrainth]

What a curious thing to say.

Lifting herself to sit on the table next to him, Vittoria quirked a brow at Kilien. "Old crone?" She inquired with a slight lilt to her words as she questioned him. "Do you know how you will die in this life, Basmarc?"

The idea of knowing seemed to only create a black shroud above oneself, never knowing when it may come to pass.

 

[Kilien Basmarc]

Studying his palms for a few moments longer, Kilien curled his fingers in and set his hands on his thighs. A heavy brow larked at Vittoria as she seated herself, equal parts skeptical that she'd buy-in to such things and amused that knowing one's death had piqued her interest so easily.

"I might," he replied, "I come from a family of Rovani. Fortunetelling and Soothsaying is sort of their thing."

Hazel eyes narrowed as he leaned toward her, a faint smile within his beard, "Why so interested?"

 

[Vittoria Larrainth]

"I am always interested in Death." Her voice soft and sweet usually, now edged with a danger at the topic being brought up. "I like to see how one puts up a fight before realising it is futile. Sometimes I will take a guess at what point they give up... like my father. Was it the sword through his chest or the magic that suffocated him that made him forfeit the fight?"

Vittoria kicked her legs a little, her hands curling around the edge of the table and she leaned on stiffened arms. Her gaze never left Kilien's, nor did the sly smile she wore. "Although I am curious as to how you will die. I feel as if I am being robbed of tearing your life from you."

 

[Kilien Basmarc]

This was probably one of those things that made so many others wary, if not downright terrified, of Vittoria. At least, that's what Kilien guessed. Wasn't the first time he'd heard her speak so lightly of death. In fact, he was fairly certain he'd heard her speak on the death of others quite often. Hard not to overhear when one's senses were attuned to that of a primordial, cursed agent of nature.

For him, it just made her interesting. What contrived a person to lean so heavily into such macabre subjects?

Kil leaned back into his chair, head canting to one side in consideration, "Well it's an awfully personal thing - to know one's death." He lifted his right hand and patted it to his chest, "Keep it close to the heart, y'know? Would take a real special someone for me to let that go."

 

[Vittoria Larrainth]

Vittoria's bittom lip pouted hearing him say those words. It was not a usual reaction from her, but a mimicry of other girls she had observed. "Cruel." She said, sitting up straight to look down on him. "To dangle such a morself of your Death before me and not share."

Her expression resettled into one void of anything, but her ocean hued gaze fixed him unwavering. "I could make you tell me, you know?" The sheer amount of power she felt coursing through her to say that, the surety of her ability in extracting information. In the lessons that taught Initiates the many ways in how to get information from someone, Vittoria excelled the most. Whereas Kilien did not fear her like the rest of their cohorts, it only made Larrainth more determined to make him keel before her.

 

[Kilien Basmarc]

"You probably could," Kilien nodded, the same hand lifting from his heart to itch idly at his scruff, "but that sounds like the easy way, doesn't it?"

He looked to her from the corner of his eyes and smiled with his teeth, pointed canines still showing a bit of red from the blueberries, "Orrrr-" he pushed up from his seat to stand and stretch, spine popping, "we could take the hard route."

"Study-buddies to acquaintances to close friends to lovers. Then one day I tell you for the asking and the next day you break my heart and my spirit because you're still mad that it isn't you. Storybook summer romance kinda thing." The charming smile persisted.