Xenovia

Xenovia

Gutter Devil
Character Profile
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It was a short walk from the Serpent's Still to the Theatre District. Thirty minutes or so. Enough to warm up without breaking a sweat. But not long enough to figure out what I'm going to say to her, the Deva sighed, hands in her pockets as she strolled along city streets hewn from cobblestone. Around her, the city of Crown's Hold prepared for the night to come: daytalers helped break down stalls as wizened women in colourful shawls swept steps and shuttered windows. And on the breeze, the burble of conversation.

Several, in fact, accompanied on occasion by joyous laughter and the chaotic buzz of patrons out for a tipple.

The steps leading up to the Black Cat were chock-a-block by the time Xenovia arrived. The stained glass windows above were darkened by bodies within. She heard music, more laughter, even a ditty or two, though the words were unfamiliar to her. Folk of the small and large variety celebrating life, she figured, or else just drinking away their woes.

'Wonder if there's time to...' No, no, better not. Checking herself out in the pool of a nearby fountain, Xenovia stood up straight, took a breath. The stars and moons were out in force tonight, providing plenty of ambient light. Paper lanterns bobbed and floated in the air above; blue as adamantine, red as the ripest of tomatoes. A few were even the same colour of purple as Ceaxean wine. Hmm. OK, maybe there's time enough for one...

Motion behind her snapped her from her reverie. She turned, a hand instinctively reaching for a blade that wasn't there.

@Garuda
 
Tilda stood there a moment, hands raised just so, and wide eyed with surprise. Her mouth caught between gasp and smile. A nervous bounce of laughter came from her. "Woah now, I know I've a mean mug , but i didn't mean to startle ya," she laughed, and fixed the ends of her vest.

The brass buttons on her fawn colored jerkin added a bit of ornament to the piece. A high necked blouse of cream colored cotton there beneath it with some frills, and sleeves with laced cuffs. Coffee colored hose tied together by a deep red cord hug tight about her strong legs, and fine leather boots that seemed freshly oiled finished her ensemble.

She eased her hands down and let the surprise soften about the edges of her face. "Didn't keep you waiting too long, did I?"
 
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Old habits were the worst. Especially when they made you look a fool in front of your date. 'Sorry, sorry, I was miles away!' Relaxing, the tension escaping her in a release of breathe, Xenovia smiled at Tilda's remark. 'Oh, please! You've a face so fine it could cut diamonds,' she purred, amber eyes full of mischief.

Was that a compliment? She hoped so.

'Not long at all. I was going to come in and grab you, but...' Her gaze hovered in the air over Tilda's shoulder. The line outside the Cat was sluggish. Mene and Mar are sure to have their work cut out for them, she thought, fond memories of chaotic evenings entwining, becoming one and the same.

'You look nice. Real nice.' Xenovia glowed, admiring her companion a moment. Her own choice of dress was simple: an outer jacket, dark like the depths of the sea; a blouse, light and airy, the colour of the sky on a clear day. Two-tone hose, and boots that appeared brand spanking new. Supple yet strong.

Like me, the Deva mused, smiling coyly.

'Should we, um...' She hooked a thumb over her shoulder. The venue for the evening was only down the road. Five or six minutes. Xenovia had walked the route earlier, purchased tickets for the pair of them. She had never been one for leaving things to chance.

Cautiously, as if fearing reprisal, she offered her arm to Tilda, tail swishing from side to side.

@Tilda von Hammersmark
 
Tilda felt warmth bloom across her cheeks, couldn't help but turn her head away from Xenovia. "Come on now," she said small and to the side. "You're just teasin is all," she couldn't help but smile all the same, and whence the compliments poured on, she smiled the wider, face the redder and hotter for it.

So, when Xen offered her the arm, she didn't wait to loop her arm into the big Deva's. "Lets," she said with a certainty, and wasted no breath to siddle up alongside her. "Figure we'd like to get in quick as we can to find our seats,?" shoulder to shoulder, part of her worried she might be crowding Xen.

Part of her didn't care. Xen would tell her, right?

They moved on, toward the theatre. Tilda's feet trying not too get too ahead of herself, as she smiled at how close they were. How they'd be sitting together like a pair of everyday Holders, enjoying a bit of culture.

Not a worry in the world other than, well, how close they could get.

"You look right dashing by the way," she said through warm smile. Laughed a little. "Hardly recognized you out of your usual kit,"
 
Xenovia nodded, let Tilda guide her along, a nervous energy fuelling her steps. The chrysanthemum sure was keen. Xen liked that, how it made her feel about herself. She was excited, too, and couldn't help stealing glances at her date, every now and then.

'You really think so?' She smiled, visage warming at how refreshingly honest Tilda seemed in that moment. 'I, well, y'know...'

Glancing down at her feet, Xen grinned, leaned some on Tilda's shoulder. 'Thank you,' she whispered, gaze climbing to appreciate the dawnling in full. 'I feel... comfortable around you, silly as it sounds. I imagine you must feel the same, but then you're always stunning, in or out of armour.' Xenovia's tail swished the ground as they walked. The buildings lining their route appeared to diminish in size and scale the closer they got to the amphitheatre.

Xen could hear the drone of a hundred conversations coming from somewhere nearby. Street performers mingled with the crowd, enticing, entertaining passersby with mystical feats and acts of derring-do. Food vendors hawked their wares to the famished and well-fed alike.

Ignoring them, for now, Xen let herself be drawn along by Tilda, the knight's excitement mirroring her own.

The scene that awaited them around the corner nearly put paid to that.

'Ah!' Placing her hand atop Tilda's, the Deva halted alongside her companion. Ahead of them lay the King's Amphitheatre, a tall, curving structure constructed of white stone and carved into the very hill upon which they now stood. But there was a problem.

'It appears we weren't the only ones thinking we'd get in ahead of the crowds,' Xenovia frowned, an apologetic look in her eye as she turned to Tilda. 'We could... go around... maybe?'

@Tilda von Hammersmark
 
She felt comfortable around her.

Of all the flattery the red haired Deva had woven with her honeyed tongue, that bit seemed the sweetest. Might be, she told every pretty face she fancied how stunning they were. How they caught her eye and set her bright heart a fluttering.

To say she was comfortable. Well, that gave her a sense of warmth that anchored her the more. Their arms together, their weight shoulder to shoulder. A balance.

"You tease too much," she said in open secret, and angled her head away from Xen's eyes.

The city was alive with commotion, and the joyful chatter of people out on the town filled the chill night air.

Xenovia said:
'It appears we weren't the only ones thinking we'd get in ahead of the crowds,' Xenovia frowned, an apologetic look in her eye as she turned to Tilda. 'We could... go around... maybe?'
Click to expand...

Tilda looked about, rose up on the tips of her toes to get a look over the throng of people lined outside the the King's Theatre. Craned her neck for that last inch of height. Fell back onto her heels and Xen's weight after. Laughed a little. "I do know a guy," she confessed, and looked about, conspiratorial before she tugged at Xen's arm. "This way," she whispered.
 
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'Oh, do you now?' So, Lady von Hammersmark had her connections? Good. Arm in arm, Xenovia continued to follow Tilda's lead. The Theatre District's main thoroughfares were always busy. The path to the King's Theatre doubly so. 'This guy you know... friend of yours?' Smiling, the Deva let her eyes wander ahead. If Tilda trusted him, so did Xenovia.

It was just how these things worked.

Besides, I really don't want to miss this play. It wasn't the fact she had already bought tickets, though that played some small part in her reasoning. No, she didn't want to miss it due to the very simple fact that if she did it would mean she would be unable to spend what was almost assuredly going to be an enjoyable evening with Tilda. Just the two of them.

'Does my teasing bother you, Tils?' Casting a glance sidelong, she let her hold on the dawnling loosen. A temporary measure. The stone underfoot was slick with something foul, and the big devahni didn't fancy dirtying her boots anymore than she had to. 'I do not wish to cause you discomfort, though, I confess, seeing the effect my words have on you brings me a certain degree of... pleasure.'

Was that the best way to describe her feelings? Probably not.

So much for a honeyed tongue.

@Tilda von Hammersmark
 
Tilda could not help but feel surprised at Xen's question. And her teasing, for that matter. "Bother me?" she asked, with a mock laugh. what came next smoothed over the spark of feelings she'd felt spring from her chest. Had her laugh some. "Pleasure is it?" she teased back. Pulled the Deva the closer again. "No, I wouldn't say that bother is the word for it," she smiled, as if privy to a secret.

It had been some time since she'd been out with someone she fancied. No stranger to a bit of physical fun, or of her needs being met. Madame Pirout's was quite good for all that. But Xen had a way about her.

Forthright, and honest. Playful and easy. Just thinking on all the times the red-haired mercenary had pulled her out of a slump with a well placed jape, or bright toothed grin. Helped that their swords so oft found themselves on the same side of things.

Still, she would enjoy playing her game now, as they strolled about the outside of the King's, missing mess and ice slick with their measured steps.
 
Xenovia hummed, pleased by Tilda's response. Had to make sure. For all her warmth and playful spirit, the Deva was not one to revel in another's discomfort. Unless that another happened to be a complete and utter scrote. 'There it is,' she purred, leaning into Tilda, enjoying the closeness, and what it might lead to. 'That smile... how I cherish it so!' She laughed, laid her head down upon Tilda's shoulder, careful her "ram's horns" didn't snag on her jerkin.

Grinning, the devahni gave her wicked tongue time to rest. The night was young, and at this rate she was going to run out of things to say before the play even started.

The King's loomed over them as they passed beneath its shadow. The crowds were beginning to build up again. Local nobility and their retainers, laymen, courtesans, cobblers, tailors. The show had brought all sorts out from their hidey holes. Knights and devils, too.

Xenovia cast a glance at Tilda, smiled, because she wanted to.

'Well, my noble syr. What now?'

@Tilda von Hammersmark
 
"What now?" She echoed with a playful curl of her lips. The closeness between them, the weight of Xen's head on her shoulder, a comfort all its own. Her scent, of fresh earth and the feint kiss of wild roses, tickled each breath that Tilda pulled into her lungs. "We go in through the back, my fair lady," she whispered, and tugged gentle at the mercenary's arm. guided into a turn before the crowd.

Away from the amber glow of street lamps, away from the cries and conversations, the laughter mixed with excitement. Tilda felt like she was getting away with something. The shadows grew darker before them. Into the alleyways, she pulled Xen along. The sudden change in luminescence slowed her step a moment, until the soft light of a lamp showed them their destination, not but strides away.

"Crew entrance," she explained, looking back over her shoulder. Stopped infront of a green clorored door. The lamp, showed itself to be a sign. The classwork intricate. Panels of stained glass cut and framed to create a sign that read "Exit," in looping letters. The soft hum of a shroud stone hard at work, buzzed in their ear. The muffled sound of voices busy making ready there behind the wood of the door.

Tilda rapped her knuckles against the wood in a clear cadence. Tun-tun-tun... Tun-tun... tun-tun-tun-TUN.
 
They were certainly up to no good, that was for certain. Smiling mischievously, the bodyguard watched her beau work her magic, star-struck, and all too amused by the knight's willingness to skip the queues forming out front. 'And to think I was contemplating bringing a coil of rope and some climbing spikes.'

Xen sighed airily, dragon's breath heating the air in front of her face. Her eyes glowed gold as she let them wash over Tilda, bright and fierce and expectant.

The knock-knock-knocking was clearly some sort of pre-arranged code, clearly. Xen had enough smarts in her to recognise that much. Whoever Tilda's inside man is, he had better hurry his arse up post-haste, mused the devahni, examining the doors lock as they waited... and waited.

'Want me to kick it in?' She asked Tilda, pasting on a hearty grin. 'Or I could give you a boost up through that there window. How are you with tight spaces?'

@Tilda von Hammersmark
 
Tilda cocked her head, and arched a brow. Keen to the angle at which she craned her neck, and showed her smile. "As much as you would like to get a good look at my ass, Xenovia," she eyed the deva a long moment. Pulled the deva close with an oomph. Close enough to feel the big woman's breath on her lips. "That'll come later," She grinned, and gave the flat of her broad chest a pat pat. "Now," she whispered just before she eased away, "Patience, as the Builder teaches, is a virtue,"

The sounds of locks coming undone, latches clacked loose, was near lost between the sound of breath, chatter, and heart beat.

"Tilds, that you?" a dark skinned woman called out. Bout as broad as Xen, with dark curls cascade about her moon round face. "Whose' the she-devil?" she asked with a grin.

Tilda smiled as she turned about. "Mabs, this here is Xen," she said with a hint of pride in her voice, arm already looping about the big Deva's.

"Ah, so that's the Xen," Mabs said with a cocked brow and a sure grin. "Heard lot's about you, Xen,"

 
'Spoilsport.' Xenovia's eyes twinkled as she tore her gaze away. The magicked exit sign flickered, its dim glow a blessing in disguise. Any brighter and Tilda might have noticed her blush. Since when did I need an excuse to stare at her ass?

Locks clicked and clacked, came undone. The door spilled open.

Xenovia wasn't sure what she had been expecting. Someone else, maybe. A grin crossed her face all the same. 'It seems you have me at a disadvantage, Mabs,' she replied, making a quick appraisal. 'I have heard so very little about you. A disservice, I think.' Letting go of her grin, she traded it for a well-meaning smile. 'It's a pleasure to meet you, truly. Any friend of Tilda's is a friend of mine.'

Glancing at her date, Xen's smile grew. Unabashed. The best way to be.

Her freehand found its way to Tilda's arm. Looking from the dawnling to Mabs, she grinned, laughed some, suddenly not so sure of herself. 'May we... um, y'know, come in?'
 
Was it so wrong that Tilda enjoyed seeing that big dumb smile across Xen's face? It was almost enough to make her blush. The dawnling however, settled on a smile, and turned away some.

Mabs clicked her teeth and kept that grin of hers. "Right," she teased, and motioned them in. "As if you two were here for any other reason that to get past the line," she jabbed a thumb towards the streetway, and the bustle of the crowd just beyond. Thick arms, round with a supple strength. 'Lucky enough, for the two of you, I'm rather fond of this sandy haired rouser," she smacked Tilda's shoulder with a friendly fist.

Tilda lead them in, and laughed some as they passed into the darkness of the back of house. The air thick with the sweet smell of smoke that hazed out from the dressing rooms. Stagehands hurried too and fro, laden with prompts and set pieces.

To a pair of warriors, it almost looked like all the crew was readying for a war.

"No no, not over there," a man's voice cut above the din. "Here, see this spot right here,"

Tilda watched wide eyed, and pulled Deva the closer. Pointed with a tilt of her nose. "That man there is Guillermo Anunval," she whispered to her date.

"Man's a proper ass he is," Mabs said, though there was a begrudging resepect there in her eye. The door behind them shut. "Hell of a playwrite though," the big woman hurried passed the two. "Now, if you two alleycats will be excusin me, there's work that needs doin," she looked over her shoulder and shot them grin. "Don't get in too much trouble now, or it's my arse that'll get the brunt of it," and she was off.

All about, the warm glow of shroudlights, making clear the stage for the talent, and in the near distance, the great red wall that was the curtain. The velvet drapes, all the protection the little world Tilda and Xen found themselves in had from the assailing eyes and opinions of the theatre goers.
 
'That makes two of us.' Xenovia beamed, sticking close to Tilda as Mabs let them in. Smoke-swathed shadows passed hitherto as the Deva paused briefly, breathing in the sights and sounds and smells of the King's Amphitheatre, noting how her companion seemed to be doing the same. When the shift came, she went with it, happy to share in the moment of wonderment, if but for a heartbeat.

'Another friend of yours?' She whispered quietly in Tilda's ear, a small smile gracing her lips. Mabs was the first to answer, her blunt honesty not something Xenovia expected to find in a building full of actors.

'I like her,' Xenovia confessed, watching the woman depart. She glanced at Tilda, a warmth building in her chest as she somewhat reluctantly untangled herself, hands slipping to a pouch on her belt in search of their tickets. 'I tried to get us one of the boxes,' she explained, producing two bits of flimsy, and passing one to Tilda. 'But the chap who sold me these said something about "horns" and "nobles-only", whatever that means.'

Smiling, her hand found Tilda's. Fingers intertwined.

'So, since it seems to matter where clink comes from these days, tier four will have to suffice. Close to the stage, but not too close.'
 
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