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Post by Vythmiirik on Jan 25, 2022 20:08:44 GMT
Vythmiirik nods "Some of the elders are just like that...also I have had unwanted attention myself in the past" she shrugs as if to dismiss it. Well it would be quite obvious as to what she was referring to, a winged dragonborn was very rare after all and at that age she would have been young enough to be...mould-able. Thankfully she had her clan and they had very strong opinions about such things and had quickly put a stop to it.
She listened to Kara as she worked a small flame flickered in her throat and a tiny tendril of smoke escaped her jaws "Yes...you know we dragonborn have lost a lot of our history; but in my clan our oral history has a song about a Queen no one knows if she was actually real or not, but it was so long ago than none of us know her name," she pauses and breathes. "But, in it there is a line, that the true queen knows her people fed before she sits to feast. It's one of the reasons that we hold her as the ideal." Vythmiirik sighs deeply "It's likely that no-one is really like that, I know, but still those people talking about food like that...it really gets on my nerves" she almost growls the last word out.
Vythmiirik side eyed Kara and huffed "It's my job to make pretty things and you are paying for it. But you're not wrong, we probably would have...but still you're not us and we're not you; our traumas are our own. Don't invalidate your own by comparing it to ours." She carried on working and after a moment added "I'm glad you like it though" she sounded pleased
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Kara
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Post by Kara on Jan 25, 2022 20:55:40 GMT
Kara hadn’t considered wings as being important enough to attract the attention of elders. She hadn’t thought of that. Of course, there were tales of vampires with bat wings, impossibly ancient things from times long forgotten even on the rift-side.
The scent of smoke pulled her out of her thoughts. For a second, Kara wondered if she smelled something burning, but as she looked around for the source, it faded away as quickly as it had begun. Odd, she supposed. Maybe someone outside was burning garbage.
“No, no, no,” she said about the story of the Queen. “That’s funny actually. I got taught that in NCO school. The squad leader eats last and then the platoon and company commanders eat after them. And if there’s nothing left, well, you make due. The troops come first. But what I was talking about with the President… that’s different. Really, everything is different for civilians. I don’t know why, it just… is, I guess.”
Her voice fell away for a time. She hadn’t thought about that in years and it made her wonder if her mistress was living up to that ideal. It didn’t help that they didn’t eat the same foods at all, but her mistress always took care of her before attending to her needs.
It was more than she could say for most vampires. More than she could say for most leaders she knew.
“I know it’s never good to try to one-up somebody about hurting. Really, I shouldn’t be whining like this at all. It’s just rare that I get to talk to anybody outside my coven who isn’t either sneering or feeling sorry for me.”
She stood her position attentively, her tail swishing back at forth. Beyond doubt, she felt like a rift-sider now. Was this how it always felt to them – to be in a world where they didn’t truly belong? Kara decided not to think too much about it.
“Hey, this might be a dumbass question, but… can you fly?”
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Post by Vythmiirik on Jan 25, 2022 22:00:37 GMT
To be honest, a dragonborn's breath weapon was such an intrinsic part of their natural magic makeup that most of the time, they weren't aware when they made tiny usages of it, so Vythmiirik wasn't quite aware she'd let off some smoke.
Vythmiirik frowns and shakes her head "Whilst that might be true, the queen looked after her people, in those days we didn't really have an army so that distinction wasn't there. Though we haven't had a monarchy since written record, so it's all a bit fuzzy. Besides if this president is in charge of civilians then why does he not send extra supplies to places like this? There's a human population here, or is this something humans just don't do? We were always taught there's a different between leaders and rulers. Leaders lead by example, rulers lead by decree; one makes you want to follow the other..makes you. It's complicated, but that's what we're taught during our classes anyhow." She's aware that it was difficult to explain and Vythmiirik is not a teacher for a reason, but she did try to explain why it frustrated her so.
She paused her work for a moment "It's okay, we're good. It's not whining really; it sounds like you're venting and as though you haven't been able to for a long time. I don't mind" she smiled for a moment and returned back to her work, she was a little startled by the question and sighed, a little forlornly "Not exactly, but my mother taught me to ride the wind. I can glide on thermals for hours if I wanted to, getting off the ground however, is quite hard." Vythmiirik sounded as though she wished she could do true flight, but enjoyed what she had none the less.
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Kara
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Post by Kara on Jan 26, 2022 1:52:04 GMT
“I don’t know,” she said bluntly. “I wasn’t the president. I guarded him, but he didn’t ask my opinion on shit. Well, he didn’t ask and I knew better than to speak up. Humans are almost as much a mystery to me as to you. But yeah. They were ‘rulers’ and I was muscle. That was it.”
It dawned upon her that even if she had, she wouldn’t have spoken about that. Outside of Cheyenne, it was all occupied territory. Maybe the humans needed to be liberated eventually, but the rest could die for all they cared. Their interests were more in putting people in graves than feeding them.
Kara wasn’t used to reflecting on things. It was part of why she’d become a thrall: to focus on the simpler side of life. She was close to her mistress, practically an extension of her will. The details weren’t her concern.
Which was not altogether different from the way that things had always been. Now she was closer to her ruler and far, far more spoiled, but she’d never been in the habit to question Lady Talisa. It wasn’t something that she wanted to dwell upon.
“Still feelings like whining,” she grumbled. “I should be venting to my mistress, but she’s got so damn much on her mind nowadays. I don’t want to add to it.”
But flying… she liked the idea. Or even of gliding.
“What?” Kara asked. “You never thought of going to the tallest building and jumping? Because, I learned how to fast rope out of VTOLs and rappel down cliffs. Honestly, even just that… that could get me high. If I could fly or glide or whatever, I’d be doing it all damn day.”
She leaned up against the wall.
“You know, they say that vampires used to be able to fly. A long, long time ago. You ever hear anything about it?”
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Post by Vythmiirik on Jan 26, 2022 19:04:20 GMT
"True, they're a strange bunch. How they became as numerous as they are is a mystery to me, when I've seen their histories" she shrugs "Who knows, it's not worth the brainpower to look on what was; best to look forward. The past is a lesson learn from it and move on" Vythmiirik has apparently decided that continuing on that line of thought isn't particularly conductive. She's aware that she's had a much more sheltered up-bringing and there are things she cannot understand because of it, so it's best to drop it for now.
She tilts her head slightly as she works "Still doesn't sound like it to me, vent as much as you'd like. Besides it's understandable you wouldn't want to bother her because you care...still it's technically none of my business; it's up to you to decide what to do there" not that Vythmiirik even really knew what the entire situation actually was there so better pick the safer option and just leave it there.
"Well...normally we use the lighthouse, less likely to get hurt that way. You think we're going to push kids off of buildings? At least with the sea and there we have something to land in." Vythmiirik pauses and gives Kara a flat look before continuing "No you wouldn't, wing strain is no joke. I have to support my entire body on my wings and use my tail to balance, if I mess up then that's a lot of weight on one or two joints. Gliding is great fun and truly there is nothing like it, but there's a reason we don't go up and do it every day" Her work is coming along nicely, she'll start working on the house emblem soon, weaving it into the fabric so it will all be one piece.
She hummed slightly "Yeah I heard about that, some really old vampires never even need to touch the floor if they don't want to..." she pauses and looks slightly embarrassed. "Of course I don't know how true that actually is, never met an old vampire after all"
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Kara
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Post by Kara on Jan 26, 2022 21:17:52 GMT
Kara had never known what to make of humans, only that there was a great difference between the pampered rulers and bureaucrats of Cheyenne versus the tough, common humans of the wider world.
Momentarily, she wondered what exactly Vythmiirik thought of her relationship to her mistress. Then again, even she didn’t know quite how to make sense of it. A girlfriend didn’t usually brand her partner and call her “pet,” but in Kara’s mind at least, it was more complicated than the kinds of brutal forms of slavery she’d seen. Maybe it was something truly unique or maybe every vampire spoiled their “personal thrall.” What little experience she had was that they were more like servants than partners.
“The lighthouse?” she said. “Right… I forgot that was a thing.” She sighed, closing her eyes and trying to imagine how it must feel to be in the air but without ropes or harnesses. “Well, no pain, no gain, right? I mean, there’s got to be exercises and stuff to help.”
She watched the scarf finally starting to come together, already wondering if her mistress might want one just for the sake of style. Perhaps she’d have to let her borrow it.
“God know if it’s true though. With vampires, ‘old’ is more like ‘impossibly old.’ Old enough to have called Caesar ‘kid,’ I guess. Older than my mistress is for sure. Not that I’d ask a vampiress her age, but she was born after the rift. Still, she’s part of something much, much older than that. The thing in Cheyenne? It’s been a fragment of America for longer than there was an America. At least for me, it feels good to be part of something like that’s… well, rooted. Like its always been there and will never go away.”
She paused for a moment, frowning. How much had Vythmiirik’s people lost? And given how rift-siders lived, she imagined it was far, far older than the United States had been.
“You told about an exodus, so shut me up if I’m opening old wounds. I don’t mean to compare misery.”
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Post by Vythmiirik on Jan 26, 2022 21:49:44 GMT
Vythmiirik generally reserved her judgments for when she had enough information to make them; so she didn't really think much of Kara's relationship either way, as long as Kara herself was happy then Vythmiirik didn't bother enough to think too hard on it, she met thralls who'd wanted escape and those who had not; so all in all she judged on a case by case basis and left the diplomacy to those better trained in it.
Vythmiirik continued her work, as this was a slightly trickier part, but held out her wing closest to Kara fully extended; her silver and blue leather stretching to it's full length between silvery 'fingers' it almost looked the sky itself was caught there. "Look for yourself, it's not muscle mass we're lacking; but literally that we cannot develop the right muscles for sustained flight." Also it would be possible to note that her wings were also just slightly too small in proportion to her body to be used for too long, they seemed functional enough, and quite powerful for their size; but there were muscles that were just not developed well at all. "I can glide at most for four hours, but any longer than that and I risk permanent damage, so unless I have to I generally only go up for about three hours with my mother and winged cousins/uncles." It was a sad truth, but a truth never the less.
"Indeed, some of the stories we have in the library are quite amusing, and probably spread by the more excentric old vampires for fun...for example. You may defeat an Asian vampire by stealing one of it's socks and throwing it over a river" she make a face as if to say 'who'd believe that?' and laughed a little.
Vythmiirik looked a little sad as she watched her work to make sure it was perfect. She plucked a loose thread to ensure it didn't make it's way into the design. "It's fine, it's nice to know things like that, where you came from. It's good to belong to something bigger than yourself." She sighs and pauses her work for a brief moment looking off into the distance but not really seeing "We don't remember where we came from, or how we even came to be. We lost all that. We had a war with dragons, which we won by the way...but we lost a lot of our history to it. We became displaced and the clans tried to find their own homes, my clan wandered for a long time, centuries probably...then we found ourselves here and settled down. Finally somewhere safe." She gives a faint smile and a shrug as if to say there wasn't much that could be done, might as well move on, it was an old wound all dragonborn carried, that uncertainty; but they dealt with it.
Vythmiirik returned to her work she was nearing the end of the scarf's design now. Just the last few bits to weave before she added the edges using the sewing machine and treated it for long lasting colours (and stain protection). "Nearly done, want any fancy edging styles?"
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Kara
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Post by Kara on Jan 26, 2022 23:13:44 GMT
Kara raised her brow when Vythmiirik extended her wing. Finally, she left her spot and moved closer, studying it in detail. It was… strange to her eyes, almost like what she imagined an alien would look like. Kara couldn’t understand what it would’ve been like to have six limbs. Still, she saw the beauty in the thin layers of membrane between each wing and how they contrasted to the dragonborn’s glittering scales.
It made her feel painfully mundane. She idly tugged on the ring of her collar, frowning. Given the choice, any vampire worth their salt would’ve chosen this dragonborn over her. She was a true beauty, something incredible and rare. Meanwhile, Kara was just glorified military surplus.
“It’s pretty,” she said, edging hesitantly away. “Too small or not, your wings are really something special. And that’s not something I say about many people. Even if you can only glide for three hours, that’s just… magical.”
She wasn’t used to feeling jealousy, let alone feeling like she was unworthy of her mistress. It left her standing mutely, folding her hands together.
Only the joke, as dry as it was, momentarily pulled her attention back.
“Yeah, maybe. I can tell you that it won’t work. If you throw my mistress’ socks, she’ll just send me to go get them.”
It was easy to laugh off, but she knew that vampires were cunning. It was entirely plausible that one had planted the idea just to fool humans. It was something to lean on, at least for now.
Her ears perked up when Vythmiirik described what little she knew about her history. Clearly, it was all so, so different from hers. Perhaps their person were both exiles, but hers had found a place and rooted, intent on finding some answer to allow them to reclaim power, whether it was magic, technology, or fighting the long war to eventual victory. Vythmiirik’s people, in contrast, had been happy just to survive.
She supposed it said something about how much better humans were at keeping a grudge.
“I don’t know about edgings and stuff. Just whatever you think would be pretty. But seriously, did you just say that you had a war with dragons? But… but… I thought that you were, kinda dragons? I mean, I know that you’re not literal dragons, but it’s not like I had a war with wolves or something.”
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Post by Vythmiirik on Jan 27, 2022 20:35:00 GMT
Vythmiirik truly had no intention of ever becoming a thrall herself, she valued her independence far too much to ever give it up willingly to another. Though she did not tell Kara this, as Vythmiirik had no idea what was going through her head.
"Thank you, I am considered quite impressive amongst my own species...unfortunately, some people don't think you can have both looks and brains" she sounds bitter about it, but she folds her wing back down to her back again. "Gliding is something I would find hard to give up, so I'm glad I can do it."
"Indeed, I figured as much, but I thought it was far too funny to take it seriously," she smiled, finding it quite hilarious in a way. Some people honestly believed some of these things, and she couldn't quite figure out how.
She continued her work, the emblem is done now, and Vythmiirik is just finishing the last of the fabric. "I see, well would you like tassels on the ends?" was asked as Vythmiirik started to wind her work down.
"Hmm, yes we were. Ah, well, we don't actually know if we are or not, as I said it's been forgotten. You see, it's a very complicated series of events, and scholars debate it fiercely even to this day; but the long of the short is we were slaves, of a sort I suppose. We got fed up with it, eventually, so we decided we'd be free; either living or dead." Vythmiirik speaks very matter-of-factly, it was after all ancient history to her, though there were scars left on the collective psyche of the dragonborn and their aversion to ever being enslaved again; it's one of the reasons that they were so highly prized. Grabbing a dragonborn might not be too hard, but keeping one was.
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Kara
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Post by Kara on Jan 27, 2022 22:24:10 GMT
“Hey!” Kara blurted out. “I know that you can have looks and brains! I’m stupidly in love with someone who’s got both.”
It was easy now to speak so openly of her mistress and how she really felt. Maybe she was feeling too comfortable for her own good, but Kara had only limited ability to fret about what other people think.
“Tassels? Hmm… I don’t think so. Doesn’t feel quite right. See, I was thinking just a little more formal for these ones.”
She crept a few steps closer, studying the scarf as it finally began to come together. It was gorgeous, almost so gorgeous that she couldn’t feel a twinge of embarrassment that she wanted it to cover up her collar. More and more, she was feeling like maybe she’d overreacted. Clearly, in some circles here, it was a nonissue.
Or at least she thought it was. Kara took half a step back. Her stomach twisted and she felt like the story confirmed that she’d had the right instincts after all. Her collar would need to be hidden away, perhaps even from rift-siders.
“…you were slaves once? All of you? You would’ve done anything for freedom and, uh… here I am.” One of her hands went to her collar, though she couldn’t decide if she wanted to hide it out of shame or if Vythmiirik might want to free her. “God, I must sound like a total fucking jackass to you.”
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Post by Vythmiirik on Jan 27, 2022 22:44:48 GMT
"Yeah, I know" she paused for a moment and grinned, "Oh?" Vythmiirik looks quite interested, "I sense a story there?"
"Hmm, that's fair. Perhaps I could add some minor decoration on the two ends so that it can be seen where they are...then maybe black velvet for the edging? Any thoughts?" Vythmiirik looked expectantly over at Kara for her opinion on the matter, as she finally finished the actual weaving.
Vythmiirik huffed and sighed, "It was a long time ago, and it was different, we weren't...we weren't treated well. If you oppress people a lot, eventually they'll want to break out; you know." She coughed for a moment, her keen eyes catching onto Kara's movements. "Don't compare our situations, things are different these days besides...as I said, so long as you're happy we're not bothered." Vythmiirik paused, then with a glance to Kara moved to her sewing machine to start working on the ends of the scarf, sewing a simple pattern into the ends, so it would hold all the threads together and still be able to flow properly. "We only take exception to those who don't follow the proper ways. If you were unhappy then I'd be asking different questions...but you're not; from what you've shown me you're proud of it. So you don't need to worry about me, dragonborn only take action when people ask them to."
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Kara
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Post by Kara on Jan 28, 2022 1:17:03 GMT
There was a story, of course, but Kara let it stand for a moment, figuring that Vythmiirik had heard enough about it for a moment.
“Oh… black velvet would look nice. Or more of that pretty gold.”
She felt more confident at Vythmiirik’s words to move closer.
“I know it’s different, but… not all that much. And I do know is that oppressed people don’t usually take it lying down. I used to train humans to kill elves. We’d give them whatever crap was rusting in the armory or what came cheap. There’s a lot of old wounds, lot of angry mother fuckers.” She paused, watching Vythmiirik put in the final stitches. “Not that any of this was really for their benefit. It was just good for Cheyenne if the elves in the region can’t build any rival empires.”
“That person I was talking about earlier? The one who’s brains and beauty? It’s my mistress, Lady Talisa. Having eternity to read books and learn about things can do that. And well… the legends about beautiful vampires are true.” Kara smiled, a far shyer grin than her usual smirks. She could feel the warmth in her ears and cheeks. “And she saved my life. Pulled three bullets out of my gut and a piece of shrapnel big enough to be a shiv. Did work good enough to be a surgeon.”
She couldn’t stop herself from smiling, looping a finger through the ring of her collar, a symbol of her promise as real to her as a wedding ring.
“You ever been in love with somebody like that? Or well… not ‘love crazy enough to be somebody’s thrall,’ but you know what I mean.”
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Post by Vythmiirik on Jan 28, 2022 13:16:21 GMT
Vythmiirik hummed as she picked up a thin piece of black velvet from one of the reels on the wall, cutting it to length and set up her sewing machine to do a zigzag threading along it's edge with her gold thread. "I'll sew the Velvet along the long edge so it'll provide extra protection from your collar and wont rub on your skin, I'll stitch it on with some gold thread through for you" she explained as she worked.
She tilted her head a bit "I don't really understand why they stay there if it's so bad, if the clan got kicked out of here, we'd move onto somewhere else and put our roots down again. It's not the land that's important; it's the people. Though maybe that's just us, dragonborn don't tend to get overly territorial in regards to places...well unless there's children involved of course" because nothing was as precious as children and a nesting mother was terrifying if crossed. Truly a lot of what the humans at Kara's birthplace did was confusing for her; she really couldn't understand it. She would miss the place she was born, the safety here; but ultimately she'd continue to live and grow no matter where she lived.
Vythmiirik filed the name away for later "I see, well I'm glad she decided to put her knowledge to good use. I don't think I've ever met one her age, she sounds quite a character. To be honest most of the ones that have come in here" she indicates her shop "are rather...well..they're a little daft, probably still quite young. My mother found one who missed a jump and fell into a dumpster once, she was polite enough to pretend she hadn't noticed of course. I guess it's just one of those things, there's a bit of a gap between the older and refined ones and those I've met before" clearly she had a lot to learn about the new neighbours in town.
She eyed Kara out of her peripheral vision. "No I can't say that I have. I'm one of those people who doesn't love easily, I'm like my mother that way" she shrugged and then grumbled. "Doesn't help that most of the people who have been interested are shallow idiots" another small curl of smoke escapes her jaws due to her frustration, but she calms herself and smiles back at Kara "I'm glad that you've found someone though"
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Kara
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Post by Kara on Jan 28, 2022 21:10:10 GMT
Kara wasn’t sure how much extra protection she needed, but… she couldn’t deny that her collar did get a bit tight at times and a bit of extra cushioning wouldn’t hurt. More than that, however, she liked the idea of being able to protect her collar from dust and scratches.
“It’s complicated,” she said. “It’s Old America. We can’t give up more soil. Not to elves, not to nobody. Throw in the fact that it’s defensible and that there’s, uh… things that couldn’t just be packed up and carried.”
Kara’s security clearance had given her just enough access to know of these things, but not enough to know details. Inside Cheyenne were ancient, arcane weapons of unspeakable power as well as equally disturbing new ones as scientists tinkered away on bioweapons projects targeted at rift-siders or tweaked werewolf DNA to make stronger, more obedient new soldiers for the long war.
And she was having simply too pleasant of an afternoon to discuss those secrets.
“Maybe you should come by the club sometime,” she suggested. “You can meet a vampire who hasn’t fallen into a dumpster.”
Though Kara couldn’t imagine that such an invitation would’ve been entirely welcome. Most humans would’ve been horrified at the thought of coming to a vampire’s lair, even if an elite nightclub was hardly the ruined castle or desolate, bone-filled cave that most mortals thought of as vampiric lairs.
Her nose wrinkled at the scent of smoke and again, she found herself looking for the source but to no avail. Still, her training had instructed her not to be silent.
“Yeah, I know. Most guys who hit on me were creeps and losers and… not to interrupt, but is something burning?”
She blinked, thinking for a moment that she’d seen smoke come from Vythmiirik’s mouth, as if she’d been smoking.
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Post by Vythmiirik on Jan 28, 2022 22:13:45 GMT
Vythmiirik continued her sewing making sure the two long edges were edged in velvet and the two shorter ends there edged with thread patterning. She kept her eyes carefully on to make sure she did not misstep once with the sewing machine, it would take a minute to finish the edging properly.
She frowned at it "It still doesn't make sense to me, then again I suppose it's just not in my nature. We'd either leave it or destroy it; interesting that humans wont" she shrugged and was willing to let it drop on that. It wasn't something she was particularly concerned about, as it didn't really concern her or her clan. Besides it wouldn't matter too much anyhow, they lived far enough away from the mountain that it would be unlikely to be an issue.
A laugh bubbled out of her chest at that not at all concerned about the invitation at all. "Sorry night clubs are still not my thing, perhaps some of them will come to commission work from me here" she pauses, then a thought appears to come to mind, and she sighs "or I'll have to keep an eye on one of my younger cousins to keep them from being stupid. It's hard to have a reputation for being 'responsible'" she grumbled, as much as she adored her family, she could really do without the messing up of her personal time to go out and do something as frustrating as partying.
Vythmiirik looked a bit embarrassed for a moment, her scales tinting slightly darker silver "Ah...that's me, when I get particularly angry or frustrated my breath weapon acts up a bit. I can breathe fire, so sometimes I'll release little bits of smoke when annoyed." It was a bit embarrassing to have to explain it, though not something that was uncommon with dragonborn, it was generally frowned upon to do so in polite company.
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Kara
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Post by Kara on Jan 29, 2022 1:55:41 GMT
Vythmiirik’s care hadn’t gone unnoticed by Kara. If anything, it gave her a finer appreciation for how much work it took to weave. In Cheyenne, it might’ve been considered a womanly craft suitable for the wife of a Congressman, but she wasn’t a woman, just a she-beast. As far as Kara was concerned, that just saved her a lot of boredom. She never would’ve had the patience for this kind of work.
“I’d withhold judgement before you see our club, hmm? And I imagine that we’ll have daylight hours for vampires trying to lie low. Hell, it’s practically a law. If you want to be a noble, you give hospitality during daytime.”
She was surprised by the revelation that Dragonborn could breathe fire. It made her think back to her old classes, of what various species could do and how to most efficiently kill them. Hadn’t there been some mention of Dragonborn breathing fire? They were so rare in her theater of operations that she hadn’t refreshed herself.
“Fire sounds handy though. You can light your own smokes and well, it’s a nice weapon that nobody can take off you.” She paused, realizing that she’d skipped over an important consideration. “By the way, if you’re worried about my family, my mistress isn’t looking for new thralls. I’m already a handful.”
She smirked, but on some level, Kara knew that it was wishful thinking. No matter how many thralls that a vampire might dominate, mark, and keep under their thumb, there would always be room in the stable for one more.
“But there’s more to the vampire world than Lady Talisa, I guess. Probably not a bad thing to keep an eye out. Some nobles aren’t so scrupulous about who they put their sigil on. I'd hate to think of one of your kid cousins getting chomped. Or god help them, getting piss-ass drunk and agreeing to a binding ritual with some upjumped leech." She shrugged. "Not that we're going to allow that at the club. Lady Talisa's very old school about that kind of thing.”
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Post by Vythmiirik on Jan 29, 2022 22:29:27 GMT
Once the edges were finished Vythmiirik held the fabric up and checked it over thoroughly "Looking good, just colour and waterproofing treatments to do now, do you want to look at it before I put it in the machine?" the question was asked as she stood up and walked over to a small machine that looked something like a fume cupboard that would spray the correct chemicals in fine mist to treat the fabric without causing harm to the woven fabrics and allowing it to dry fast without letting the colours run.
"Hmm I suppose I could visit whilst delivering the remainder of your order, though I am not fond of loud music or large crowds; so I guess we'll see?" it was the closest to a concession Vythmiirik would give, she did not like such establishments for her own personal reasons, but didn't see much harm in a short visit so long as it was under the ancient rules of hospitality.
"Different dragonborn have different breath weapons. I can breathe fire, but my mother can breathe ice, one of my cousins has lightning. It depends on which is the dominant gene, most of the clan has either fire or ice as our ancestry is gold and silver" she explained, as such knowledge was considered pretty common around the city, so Kara would hear about it sooner or later. "I don't really use it to light...'smokes' as you say, I mostly use it for baking. I make nice cakes" she grins slightly smug about that.
"Thanks, I'll keep that in mind. Though to be honest a diplomatic delegation will probably be sent to your mistress in order to negotiate. The clan doesn't have a problem with vampires and we don't want to get involved, saying that, it's generally best to get the ground rules settled first so we all know where we stand"
Vythmiirik nodded at Kara's point about other vampires with solemn look "Yes we're aware of things like that, it's why we try to get a diplomatic contract sorted out with the local groups; as...well I don't know about other dragonborn clans, but ours has a tendency to get a little volatile when captured." She laughs bitter and closer to a growl "there's a reason they decided to try skinning my parents when they were captured on their way here. If they hadn't been saved..." She trailed off and gave a bitter smile at that, more teeth than was strictly necessary at the memory of her parents telling the story, the slight flicker of flame lighting up the back of her throat, smoke curling between her fangs.
She takes a deep breath in, the tiny flickers recede and on the out breath the smoke is puffed out in a small cloud, that quickly fades as she calms down; "Sorry about that, it's something that my mother still has nightmares about and I get angry thinking about it." Vythmiirik coughs awkwardly and changes the subject. "Still I'm glad your mistress follows the old laws, it'll make negotiations easier. I'm sure we can come to some mutual agreement" she smiles properly this time.
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Kara
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Post by Kara on Jan 30, 2022 3:56:28 GMT
Kara walked over at the suggestion of looking at the scarf. It was shockingly colorful, even the black fabric was sparkling with light, the three bats of the House of Dolingen as bright as polished gold.
“That won’t mess with the color, will it?”
She assumed not, but the last thing that Kara wanted to see was something so lovely lose its beauty. As Vythmiirik put the scarf into the machine, Kara stood by it, waiting nervously as if one wrong movement might ruin it.
Kara was disappointed that Vythmiirik wouldn’t likely visit the club, at least during the more entertaining hours, but still, it was a possibility. If nothing else, maybe her rift-sider mistress would appreciate meeting one of her counterparts.
“…baking? Really?” Kara said, her attention pulled away from the machine with her scarf. “Though now that you say that, I do remember it better. Specifically, I remember being told not to get into a hand-to-hand combat situation with a dragonborn. I suppose that’s why.”
She was looking intently at the machine, waiting for her scarf, trying to see if there were any viewing ports so that she might keep an eye on it. She was only partially paying attention to Vythmiirik, at least until her nose caught the scent of smoke and she heard what had happened to Vythmiirik’s parents.
“Skinning… fuck me.” She scowled. “Most werewolves change back to human form when they die, unless of course, an Army surgeon installs hardware in your brainstem to make sure that you can’t transform – ever. And when a bunch of flea-bitten gnolls know about this, some of them get it into their heads that you’d make good upholstery for their truck.”
She snorted.
“It’s filthy business. I hope your parents killed them all, whoever they were. Since I haven’t gotten around to dealing with my gnoll friends lately, I hope that somebody at least settled a score.” Kara frowned, still looking at the machine. “Not to dig up the past. Not when the present is so interesting. God, hearing you talk about diplomacy… I feel so out of my depth here. All these ideas of different rules, traditions, and laws. Every clan and house and family is part of something bigger.”
It made her realize, the more she thought about it, just how folly it was for the Cheyenne government to even think of retaking America. When even a single city had a bewildering number of different factions and rules, all of them like little nations onto themselves, how was a human government that had been effective defunct for four hundred years supposed to reestablish order over them all?
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Post by Vythmiirik on Jan 30, 2022 16:07:07 GMT
Vythmiirik shakes her head "On the contrary, it will help preserve it. Should give you about 50 years of colour fastness, with a bit of stain protection too. One of my great-aunts is an alchemist and she came up with the formula, tested it very thoroughly; seems to be holding on well so far, it's how we know it should last about 50 years." She seems quite proud of her great-aunts work, then again it is quite an achievement. She watched amused as Kara stared at the machine "The observation window is on this side if you'd like to watch?" she asked indicating the other side of the machine nearer to where she herself was standing. Inside, the mini jets were pushing out a fine mist of specially prepared chemicals to coat the fabric, it was suspended in the middle and sprayed on all side, small manipulator arms moved it around to make sure the scarf was properly coated, ensuring that the space the arms held it was covered as well they never gripped the same part twice.
"Yeah I make lots of cakes for special occasions, I've got great control of my breath weapon so I can bake with it." Vythmiirik frowns slightly "I suppose so, I've only done basic self defence training and generally a breath weapon on a person is supposed to be a last resort. Otherwise we get in trouble for 'unreasonable force'" she makes the air quotes as she does so, seemingly unimpressed by it.
Vythmiirik made a disgusted face "Yes, it's pretty horrible. Though, being turned into a upholstery sounds pretty horrible too" she bares her fangs once more in a snarl at the reminder "Unfortunately the ambush had been well prepared, so my parents didn't save themselves, a traveller turned up and rescued them and well...lets just say things got bloody after that. Though mother and father did do their own part in it once they were free to do so. They named me in honour of the incident." She relaxes her face into a smile as she pauses before she adds almost casually "Vythmiirik means Steel song, if you're interested."
"Don't worry too much about it, most of them are pretty basic. Things like the rule of hospitality for example?" Vythmiirik asks as she watches the timer on the machine count down, the timer was about half way. "Generally we prefer diplomacy to outright fighting turf wars, though I'm aware they do happen, there are quite a few gangs around and some are a bit too violent for their own good."
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Kara
New Member
Posts: 37
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Post by Kara on Jan 31, 2022 0:50:48 GMT
Kara was relieved, given that she going to be likely wearing the scarf for an extended period of time. Thralldom was an eternal obligation after all. She walked over to peer into the observation window, watching the machine work. It was something that she hadn’t seen.
“What’s ‘unreasonable force?’ Being soft to the bastards who want you dead? Fuck that. Gauss, grenades, knives, airpower, whatever it takes. Either win or stay the fuck at home. Let the other guy worry if you weren’t gentle enough.”
She was tempted to tap on the observation window, as if the machine was a living thing that depended on her attention, but she resisted the impulse. Besides, Vythmiirik had been irritated when she’d walked up on her without asking. Toying with her machines would be just as rude.
“In diplomatic relations, I think hospitality is a big one. Or at least hospitality for rift-siders. I don’t know, man, I’m just the pet. I let my mistress worry about gangs and tradition.”
Or at least in the long term. In the short term, Kara supposed that she'd need to wonder about gang threats and perhaps even do a bit of reconnaissance. In her experience, gangs lacked discipline. Without leadership, they rapidly came apart. It was different, she supposed, with gnoll clans - a lesson that she'd learned the hard way.
But she looked up suddenly when Vythmiirik mentioned that her parents hadn’t freed themselves with their breath weapons or guile. It was enough to pull her attention away from the beautiful scarf and her worry that it might somehow be ruined.
“A traveler, huh? Sounds to me like he was a little bit more than a tourist if he got the edge on an armed, decently coordinated gang.” She crossed her arms. “I’ve heard stories like this. A werewolf, right? Someone with all kinds of tech, right, who came with scary weapons that fire blinding lasers or tiny little bullets that blow big things apart?” She smirked. “You know, when I did Special Operations, I’d hear stories like that, except for the ones where the werewolf wasn’t one of us.”
Or maybe she was reading too deep into things. The name “Steel Song” didn’t help, but it certainly implied that the werewolf was the other high tech one that she’d heard about… or maybe the “steel” was power armor. Maybe it was one of her people. Or maybe it was some tourist who got lucky. Her confidence failed her. Kara supposed that this was why she wasn’t in military intelligence.
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