Damien Malneux Accompanying: Malachi Hythian and co.
Damien rose, entering Malachi's office. He was red in the face, not a good look for the nobleman. He knew the news already, it wasn't hard to guess. Valid had the peoples hearts, just as expected. All the gold in the Pythian coffers couldn't buy their favor, and they both knew that. He pulled a seat, but did not sit, choosing to stand by a window instead. Looking out across the view, he thought, silently. The quill's guild master grew suspicious, Waymaker was irritatingly observant, that much was clear. He posed a threat, and the time grew close to move his piece. Then the problem posed by her obnoxious group of sycophants, advisors, whatever they wished to call themselves, the purpose they served was the same. Putting hand to his temple, he closed his eyes, experiencing a bout of pain. He hadn't let the visions consume his sight in some time, perhaps a mistake, but one he was comfortable making at the moment. Malachi could not know, nor could any besides Asena. Turning back to face his benefactor once one of the obnoxious women he seemed incapable of living without finally shut her damned mouth, and the incessant prattle ceased.
"If I may," he says, taking a few steps back towards the desk.
"With the outcome now clear, i would recommend we pursue other vantages of securing a council seat for the lord Hythian. In terms of the election, you've lost that avenue. However, opportunities exist anywhere one cares to look.For instance, I have it on sound authority that the senior councilman's son has been taken hostage.at the moment, he is floundering for money to pay a ransom. With your generosity, I'm sure that he could be....persuaded, to retire early. A recommendation of your appointment would be in order..."
He paces 'round the room, behind the ladies, but in view
"History's eyes lay upon you my lord, say the word, and i can personally guarantee that you will sit beside Valda before the weeks end, unless anyone else here cares to do their job, and provide assistance and advisory to the lord?"
Damien studies her she speaks, watching her body language and tone as she speaks. She obviously wants nothing to do with him, but he needed her, for this moment at least. He studies her complexion, hair color, facial features. She wasn't the right one, not even close. She lacked the......moral willpower of the one he had seen. He saw her every time it happened. Her face haunted his mind, tortured his nightmares. Magma red hair, sword dripping blood, he had seen it so vividly. As his thoughts wander, his shoulder starts to almost fizzle, starting to slip into his glitched shatter, until he pulls himself back. Taking a breath, he looks at Nesryn with a smile.
"I see no reason to disagree, but you will not be the one who claims my life."
Raising his glass with his left hand, he extends his other
"I don't see why we can't be more friendly than frosty. To our shaky, if not constantly wavering partnership"
The ceremony was exuberant, that much Damien could say. Very colorful, almost sickeningly so, but the free drinks were quite nice. The clinks of champagne flutes echoed across the marble halls, mixing with the cacophony of over exited, bubbly voices. Liquor tended to loosen the lips, make the secrets spill out all that much faster. He scanned the room, his benefactor having left long ago to presumably consummate his brand new marriage, leaving Damien fairly unobstructed to wander and be merry. However, merrymaking, or partying was not quite his style. He looked over all the quests, searching for one face in particular. He had kept an eye on the Quills, never reaching out, or giving any indication of his interest, but watching all the same. The spymaster's favorite....taught by him directly, one could assume. However, her disillusion with her organization wasn't hard to spot. When he finally picked her out of the crowd, heading away from the ever growing group of upperclass ladies. He took a drink, freshly filled, and follows after her. He approaches her, after they turned the corner out into the vacant garden.
"Pardon me, miss Nesryn? I couldn't help but overhear Lady De Witheres boasting of how she had found and hired the most formidable guard this side of the hemisphere. Color me curious, but even more so when i learned she was the same Nesryn who had apprenticed under the spymaster of the Velvet Quills."
Extending the champagne to her, it seems to be a break in his charismatic bomb drop speech.
"I'm not one to mince words so ill be quick. You want out, I want in. You keep showing up when needed, forward me the information to its full extent, and I'll do your dirty work. All i ask is for your assistance when needed, and I'll provide a nice little cottage for you and your little boy-toy. No strings, no tricks, my terms are simple and i provide adequate reward. Do we have a deal?
Damien stood at the front of the crowd, watching the 3 candidates stammer and spit out hastily written responses, obviously not written by them, save for maybe Asena. She was surprisingly honest, and soft spoken, for someone this fresh into the political game. He watched her face twitch and immediately struggle to hide the rush of emotions as Gabrielle announced Damon, the one he had mentally noted as a glorified street urchin, at the banquet where she caused her little scene. Pathetically easy that was, pushing her buttons in just the right way to make her erupt. His gaze shifts to his own candidate, Malachi. His speech was well written, Damien would know, as he had penned it. Gabrielle remained the enigma. Nice and sweet enough to appear the most normal, but he had seen what lurked behind those honeysuckle sweet lashes when he had dropped the little mentions of her idiotic little cult group. For someone who regularly prescribed to the art of mind washing and torture, she held nice conversation. All the same, the right things said, and the rage was almost visible behind the makeup. Waiting for the speeches to end, he looked around to see if anyone else could close their mouths and gather themselves long enough to ask a question of the candidates.
"Excuse me, Candidates? What of the raised taxes on our lower class? How are they expected to pay when they earn almost nothing at all?"
He caught Asenas eye, and the tiniest bits of a smile showed through. As they locked eyes a silent message was given,
"I know about your boytoy"
Without words, he didn't miss a beat with his question, but with any luck the fiery she-devil got the message
Damien stands before her, a malicious smile stretched across his face as he looks at Asena, knowing full well that the fire he lit in her mind would consume her, and burn out all reason and logic. He knows just how badly he's hurt her, taken her darkest, most closely guarded secret, and without hesitation, stabbed her through the heart with it. He takes a step back, knowing that the fire in her heart would soon burn into reality; and saying nothing, he listens to her monologue. So drearily naive,
"Still the foolish girl from Lytherwood. I don't care about the world, Asena , and i told you that long ago. After all, this isn't my doing. You did this to yourself."
He shifts his footing, pushing some raven hair out of his face, and looking her dead in the eyes with a smug, sickeningly sweet grin that oozed a self righteous sense of victory being achieved.
"Such big, meaningful words of control, how painfully ironic they come from someone without any grasp over their own life. Really, how is someone so....pathetic supposed to decide the fate of so many? You can't even get a grip on your own"
He watches the glass shatter, and the looks Asena is drawing. He sees the curtain start to catch, burning, burning like the inordinate rage overtaking her heart. Good. He's lit a fire, a fire thats soon to raze her reputation down to ashes, not unlike the foreman so long ago. As her fire reaches a peak, he doesn't even lift a finger as its quenched by the wind. He doesn't blink as she drops to the floor, standing far enough to have avoided the worst of the scorching. As the clamor begins to rise, he looks around, taking in the witnesses. So many people, so many whispers and rumors on the sides of the masses. Good. This went perfectly. As m Malachi approaches him, he turns, not giving Asena the mere respect of looking at her, but after all, with the "golden girl" now on the ground gasping and smoking, any respect she had with any was now trashed.
"Not to worry, sir, its under control. Miss Valda's attack at myself has been dealt with"
Reassurances and false-apologies were whispered, before Malachi's attention was drawn to the matter of his wife, and Damien's own to the situation currently going by the name "Septimus"
Giving him a sympathetic look, he takes a step nearer
"I'm terribly sorry, but i haven't done a thing. Miss Valda and i were just catching up, when she grew so....so angry and attacked me. Over what i haven't the faintest idea, but by all means, ask her. Ask her what i could have possibly said to make her attack me like that."
He finally turns his attention back to the smoldering firecracker, looking down at her both literally, and figuratively. His soft frown hides a maniacal smile, and though she can't see it with her eyes, her mind gets a crystal clear view.
Damien Malneux Location: Whetherford Manor Ballroom --------> Far side of the Ballroom, Accompanying: Asena Valda, Gabrielle Brighteye, Malachi Hythien
Damien smiles at Gabrielle, very warmly, pun intended
"Oh my dear Miss Brighteye, some of the greatest leaders have been warriors. A good leader should be adept with a quill, but prepared to use steel if need be. Not that someone so regally, and beautifully... small should ever need wield steel"
As the performance begins, the groups attention is drawn there, but Damien's eyes linger on things far, far more important. The small group gathered around Miss Valda, for example. Gabrielle clearly had set out to form an alliance, or trust of some sorts between herself and the ginger hellwraith. Her convent wreaked of Nepotism and religious funds misused, although that was to be expected. His own patron was visibly uneased by his words and actions, and Damien quickly gives Malachi a look stating simply, "Trust me. I have this handled". That should be enough to satisfy the rich manwhore, though the same funds that provided Malachi all his toys payed Damien's handsome salary. He receives a sharp headache, and anyone not paying close attention to his form would miss the flash of red and blue. Images rush through his mind, people, places, so many sounds and faces of people whom he'd never met. One, one however stuck out, a vision of a young girl, hair as red as the crimson cloth adorning one of the spectacular ladies at this very event, arm outstretched, with the burning form of someone vaguely appearing human crumbling to ash.
"Oh....oh i see...Miss Valda...who knew?""Oh....oh i see...Miss Valda...who knew?" he thinks to himself, turning to look out around the crowd. This was the best chance he would get. Sliding back into the crowd, he makes his way right behind arena, leaning down slightly to whisper into her ear
"Follow me..." His words were silvery and smooth, and oh so tempting. He turns, and walks towards a more secluded, open area in the ballroom. Waiting for her to arrive, he finally speaks with her, seemingly candidly.
"Asena, oh i missed you so dearly, how have you been?" he says, voice layered with thick sarcasm and mockery. He smirks, walking towards her. He stands in front of her, with a smirk that matches his real self. The one she knows, the cold, cruel, maliciously injudicious man about to reveal a little secret, just for the two of them. He takes a step towards her, and she sees a shattered flash of a red afterimage on his right inaudibly screaming in pain, blink, and its gone. He takes another step, and on his left she can see a blue twin pulling at his hair, mouth wide but with no sound coming out. Not a soul asides from the two is likely to see it, the flashes brief, and only truly visible if you know what to look for, which Asena most certainly does
"I missed you Asena, no matter how....bellicose, you may be. Did you miss me?"
He steps nearer, only a pace or two from her
"I came across something unique, so incredibly interesting I didnt want any of the other nosey little bureaucrats to hear"
he circles her, like a tiger stalking its wounded quarry, slowly making an arc around her
"That grimy alley, such a miserable end for that foreman. Ash scattered in the mud.." A smile spreads across his face, sick and twisted. Watching her squirm would be so pleasant, and what comes after even more so. Taking a large step back from whispering the words to her ear, he ensures that only the two are privy to the little secret they now share
Turning to face Malachi, Damien smiles, an act that would only draw attention from Asena, as Damien's smile was rare and in this case fake and put on, like Gabrielle's makeup. Turning to face his current patron, he addresses the small crowd that had gathered to swarm Asena.
"A pleasure to meet you all, I've heard so much from master Hythien,and i'ts a joy to put faces to these names."
Voice dripping with charm, and coming from such a well cleaned up face. He's glaringly different to when Asena and he had first met, having forgone the stubbly beard, trimmed and styled his hair, and deserted the clothing of a mercenary. He looks good, good enough to make even the most rigidly frigid women blush.
"Oh the Basilisk! It's been years, but the story still is as fresh as the day it happened. I was contracted to assist a struggling guild member with the removal of a Basilisk form a small mountain town, Lytherwood, i believe it was called. I met Miss Valda there, as it was actually she who i was contracted to assist. I journeyed out with her to the roaring winter falls, and watched as she slew the beast herself! Oh it was such a sight, if only other's could've witnessed it. Such impressive swordsmanship from someone so unassuming. Politics never was her strong suit, but I fear her immense capabilities with a blade. Its honestly quite impressive, the skill she possessed even back then, how she could possibly have needed my help. Im not one for fighting and swords, i prefer to settle disputes peacefully, but, to each their own"
He sips from the elegant glass of liquor, and spots the man who's held Asena's gaze for the last few minutes.
"Oh dear, Miss Valda, is that your new friend? Lover? I didn't think you'd be able to replace me so easily"
A soft lilt to his voice displays his intrigue, and a hint of betrayal. Asena knows the events he talks about, or lies about. Its hard to tell lies from truth, especially if they mix together so elegantly. No one knows what happened three long years ago besides her and he, and it plays perfectly into his favor.
"Speaking of, Miss Brighteye, i am such a fan of your work. Its amazing how faith can help people in need, and justify horrific actions by the Flames of Embra. I mean seriously, the brainwashing, kidnappings, all horrific deeds. They should be quashed entirely, I mean religion is sacred, but this is getting outlandish! Wouldn't you agree?"
A new face enters the ballroom; one that none, spare Malachi and Asena, had seen before. Damien Malneux, mercenary, has made himself known. Clad in expensive, silky white tunic, with a jacket of fine black cloth, it can be seen he takes care of his appearance well. Clean shaven, with a messy undercut of jet black hair. Its very wavy, styled for the evening. He adjusts his collar, which he's decided to button up, mostly, leaving a little bit of skin showing. His entrance wouldn't go unnoticed, as he makes his way towards Malachi. Its odd, he dresses like a rich man, but carries himself like a young man in his prime. Not an inaccurate description, on both ends, but still, a look not seen often. He makes his way towards Asena at a leisurely pace. On his way, he reaches out and snags a passing flute of some alcoholic spirit, using only 2 fingers to pluck it out of someone's loose grasp. He sips it, thoroughly delighted to be at the banquet. It wasn't often work beckoned him to join the upper class, as disgustingly blind as they were to everything beside their silver inlaid floors. It was very enjoyable, for him, at least. Approaching the group at last, he speaks
"its Brighteye, looking dashing as ever, and could it be? Miss Valda, after all these quiet years."
He dips his head slightly, to plant a chaste kiss upon her hand, in a proper manner.
"I never thought i would see you after our little business proposition, nor hear your irritating undertone"
He says with a small smile and wink of mischief. Sipping from his stolen drink, he turns to face the group.
"We met a few years ago, had some fun of our own, and parted ways. How you've grown since then! Not in height, of course, but some things never change. Haver you tried this liquor? Its spectacular! I insist on having a round with such good company. Like i say, life is for the living!"
He's putting on a show, almost, playing into the personality adopted for the evening. It was expected he would be a good guest, enjoy himself, make people feel at ease. Comfortable, friendly people were easier to milk for all they were worth. Even better inebriated.
Height: Six foot Five inches Weight: 190 Lbs Body Type: Toned /Users/paullevittold/Desktop/sin_of_human_by_leekent-d9ziwj3.jpg
Species: Humana Subspecies: N/A
Abilities: Ceas magic, unique effects afterceded this. His ceas magi shows itself in a unique, and unnatural way. Damien lives in the past, present, and future at once, seeing all simultaneously. His ‘soul’, for lack of a better word is split, all trying to split apart, but continuously drawn and forced back together, painfully at times. His present image looks the same as you and me, his past is a pale blue visage, and the future is red. This continuous fission and fusion results in breakdowns, tearing his forms apart completely, until they remerge a minute or two later. The images he sees almost always are unintelligible, showing probably futures, and pasts he doesn't remember. Siell Magis Preferred Equipment: A concealable shortsword, rudimentary poison kit, and a small pocket watch he finds habit in winding Allegiance:Damien is out for himself, and he’ll pledge himself to whatever group gets him ahead the fastest Beliefs: Non religious, will claim anything that comes to mind when asked Profession: Mercenary, warrior, guard, consort, interrogator, whatever his benefactor may need
Personality He’s in it for himself, and he’s in it for the long haul. Damien will say, do, kill, or steal from whomever his benefactor dictates. With connections built, and jobs completed, he’s grown to have a confident attitude towards his skills. He speaks when spoken to, and isn’t one for needless conversation .
Likes/Dislikes Strengths/Weaknesses Biography AcquaintancesAsena Valda (Pre candidate) (Heard of via mercenary work for the Nomadic Warriors guild rumors, met in a bar, not placing them as the same person Developments
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