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No title.
(2013-05-07 - 2013-05-07)
No description.
Ophelia The sun hangs high over the sprawling city of Mullonde as it makes its daily path through the sky, marking the time somewhere around the middle of the day. The bright golden glow casts the plain stone walls of the various homes, shops, and structures in a warm and homey atmosphere that makes it very easy to relax. This warmth effuses from the people as well, laughter and smiles being the norm as they go about their daily business under the shadow of the grand cathedral that stands as this holy place's symbol of power and authority.

Within the protective inner walls that surround the cathedral several wide patches of land are set aside for the training needs of the holy knights of the order. Dozens of soldiers spar in small arenas and the clash of wooden training blades rattling against each other fills the air in a constant drone.

Both men and women go head to head here for the Church makes no discrimination against the gender of those who would uphold the holy tenants of Saint Ajora. Unlike the women, however, most of the men are bare chested as they exercise. The sunlight glistens on their sweat-coated bodies, highlighting firm well-developed muscles and toned skin that has tanned on those who have been here for any length of time.

Nearby, in stark contrast to the examples of diligence and hard work, a small table sits beneath the shade of a massive umbrella. Ophelia watches the Templar go through their daily routines with a vacant smile on her face, her head propped up against the surface of a hand. The other quietly stirs a long slender spoon through the steaming cup of tea before her on the table. She sips at it occasionally though seems mostly disinterested in the beverage, her attention fully on the fine specimens on display before her.
Morrighan Alazne Morrighan usually made it a point to /not/ visit the grand cathedral. Because while she was technically under the church's employ, she wanted nothing to do with their inner workings or day to day activities. If she was needed, someone would be sent to her house to inform her. Rare was it the times that the dark elf would actually step out of the comfort of her residence and into the walls of the cathedral.

However, on this day in particular, the mage had little choice but the take a break from her daily personal pursuits, as she was missing a certain tome from her collection. One that she'd require to reference for her work. And thus having visited the library, she was busy making her way out of this damnable place. Her chosen route led her pas the grounds that the tempar were using for their training exercises and as she passed, Morrighan glanced aside, slowing down to a stop as she observed.

Look at these people. Throwing themselves at each other, drenched in sweat as they batter each other into submission. Truly, the training of a templar was barbaric to her eyes. ...But more than that was the fact that there was someone else present here that did not quite seem to fit the image of these hardworking men and women training to better serve the church. And she was off to the side, sitting at a table under the shade of a rather sizable umbrella.

"...And what have we here?" Morrighan muttered under her breath, red eyes narrowing slightly as she hugged the large tome she was secured closer to herself. The sight drew a bit of an amused smirk from her. Curiosity and the need to be out of the grounds of this infernal cathedral collided within her mind as in the end, she wound up standing aside, staring at the woman under the umbrella as mental forces debated upon what course of action to take...
Ophelia "Do you like what you see?"

The young woman's lips twist into a coy smirk as she speaks up. Her head does not move but Ophelia allows her eyes to slide lazily towards the dark elf, peering at her through the loose veil of hair that frames her exotic features. She takes a few moments to examine the woman, noting her extravagant attire and ornate hair ornamentation, which only makes her smile more. A noble of some sort, if she doesn't miss her guess. Perhaps this person could appreciate her tastes.

Casually and carefully, Ophelia removes her spoon from the tea and taps it against the rim of the cup to shake any loose drops from its polished silver surface before setting it neatly aside. With her hand now free, she gestures at the Templar as they train.

"Magnificent specimens, are they not? All of that dedication and faith turned to the simple goal of attaining strength. Mmm and so easy on the eyes as well. Do you not agree?"

She inclines her head towards Morrighan, finally looking at her properly as she indicates the seat next to her. There are more cups arranged on the table, almost as if she has been expecting company that never arrived.
Morrighan Alazne "...Perhaps. Perhaps not."

Morrighan replied rather casually, returning to reality upon hearing the question. Oh well, she could entertain a bit of conversation before she left these god forsaken walls. ...Calling a church god forsaken, funny that. The dark elf's eyes leave the woman at the table, returning to the sight of the Templar as they train rigourously.

"Magnificent. ...I suppose that is one way to put it. Expending all of that effort. Working their bodies to the bone in order to acquire the strength they so desire. ...I find it laughable myself, but nevertheless..." Holding onto the tome with one arm, Morrighan brought a hand to her cheek, head tilting her head slightly as she observed the trainees. "...I suppose that they /are/ easy on the eyes."

That admission caused her to smile slightly to herself. Taking a couple more moments to just stare, Morrighan eventually shook her head and glanced back over to the unknown woman, blinking as she indicates the other seat at the table. ...Well, no reason not to refuse just yet. And so she began to approach, having herself a seat and fixing her dress as she did so. "So tell me. You hardly seem to be among those training here. Rather, you seem to be..." A glance towards the Templar again, and then she returned her gaze to the woman. "...Enjoying the view. Who might you be? I doubt that we have met now."

Setting the tome down and out of the way on the table, Morrighan pressed a now free hand against the collarbone area above her chest to indicate herself. "But it would be rude not to introduce myself first. I am Morrighan Lachesis Alazne. A mage under the employ of the church."
Ophelia Ophelia also returns her gaze to the men as Morrighan takes in the sight but her attention shifts fully to the elf once she takes her seat. Once she has settled in, the young woman pours her a measure of tea without asking if she'd like any, merely assuming that to be the case. She isn't really concerned with wasting the stuff either. It isn't a bad vintage but nothing like the fine imports she used to get from her uncle and anything less than the best is a waste of her time.

"Ophelia Rosai Lovett," she responds, setting the teapot back onto a fancy plate that looks more expensive than anything that could be affordable on the laughable salaries that the faith of the Church receive. Infact, everything about Ophelia seems designed to display just how wealthy she is. The decoration and embroidery on her armor alone would take craftsmen days to repair should it get damaged in battle and the small pile of slender swords that are propped up in one of the far chairs look no less ornamental.

"I am... well twould be inaccurate to say that I am a member of this organization. I work with the Church's officials to further my own goals and they in turn receive my aid when it is necessary."

With the formalities out of the way and the tea served, Ophelia leans back in her chair and crosses her legs in a sultry fashion, doing little to hide the flashes of fabric visible beneath her incredibly short skirt. She gives Morrighan a thin-lipped smile, her teeth never showing as she does so. Her narrow eyes dance about the elf's body in a very bold fashion, doing little to hide their journey from her face on downwards.

"So tell me, Morrighan," she says after a few moments. "What brings someone of your poise to such a place?"
Morrighan Alazne "Ophelia then." Morrighan nodded slightly in greeting, glancing over the armor Ophelia was wearing, and then that pile of swords, even the tea set looked to be above the church's pay grade! Certainly none of this belonged to the organization. It only made her more curious. Offering no complaint about the poured tea, she took the cup apparently meant for her to had a small sip. This tea also seemed to be higher quality than the church generally partook in. Minus corrupt officials, but that was neither here nor there!

Setting the cup down, the dark elf rested her hands in her lap, following Ophelia's gaze as she explored her body. Feeling no offense for it, she eventually did the same, smirking somewhat as her own eyes shamelessly traveled the other woman's body. Eventually, eye contact was achieved and she began to reply. "I see. Well, I suppose that I am not entirely at the church's beck and call either." The mage spoke softly, maintaining eye contact. "I was specifically requested by them to add my skills to their collective after caught their attention."

Gently, Morrighan took another sip of tea and then continued. "They offered plenty in order to keep me here. It is not hard to tell that they are choosing to expend resources to keep my skills with them rather than against them. It works out for both parties now."
Ophelia The response to her visual probing pleases Ophelia greatly and she gives a coy smirk once their eyes make their way back up to each other's faces at roughly the same time. Her first impression of this woman is one of immediate attraction, her calm dignity made all the more obvious against the backdrop of the Church's pompous clergy and scheming officials. And, much like the fit and toned Templar, she was quite easy on the eyes.

"I see... that does seem quite like them. The Church is quick to snatch up those they see as threats and burn those which refuse their offer. Like spoiled children, they are. Still, tis less troublesome to be on their good graces for the time being."

Ophelia in turn lifts her teacup and takes another soft measured sip, allowing the warm liquid to saturate her senses for a few brief moments. A soft clink rings out as she sets it back down with practiced manners. She weaves her fingers together into an interlocking bridge as she rests her elbows on the surface of the table, upon which she rests her chin as the slender woman leans forward.

t"I must confess to knowing little of the art of magic. Strange as it may seem, the blade has always been my calling. My father was one of the greatest swordsmen of his time, you know. Made his fortune traveling the land and he taught me his secrets once I was old enough."
Morrighan Alazne "I know all too well the machinations of organizations that grow far too powerful for their own good." And it was true. Elves lived far too long and saw far too many things in that time. Some may find such longevity tiresome, others welcomed the time granted to pursue knowledge and the mysteries of the world. Where did Morrighan lie? ...Who knew. Her eyes eventually wandered away, watching the Templar train. In the meantime, she spoke onwards, in reply to Ophelia's remarks on swords and magic.

"While you may know little in the art of magic, I must confess to knowing little of the way of the sword." That said, the elven woman returned her gaze to to her current table companion, lips turning upwards in a wry smile. "I never could lift a blade and use it to harm others. Rather, I was taught the ways of white magic by a mentor. However, I was hardly satisfied with just helping others."

With an audible clink, she lifted the tea cup to her lips, breaking between her story to take another sip. It was long and pronounced as she took the time to savor the taste. "Eventually, I grew curious enough to explore other avenues of magic. Specifically, dark magic and time magic. A useful set of tools. As it seems these organizations never have enough on hand." Setting the cup back down, Morrighan leaned back slightly into her seat, brushing a bit of hair away from her face as she asked.

"So tell me, Ophelia; why is it that someone of such grace and obvious wealth dealing with the church? I must assume that you have far more...rewarding options open to you now."
Ophelia Ophelia's enthusiasm for her new acquaintance wavers for a moment at the mention of white magic, her smile faltering momentarily but she catches herself before it shows too much. Fortunately, the elf seems to have branched out into other areas of expertise as well which puts the vampire a little more at ease, especially upon her confession to not being particularly interested in altrusism. People who threw themselves at others with no concern for their own happiness made her sick.

"Useful indeed," she says, echoing Morrighan's sentiment. Her own powers could likely be classified as dark magic but, unlike mages, she did not have to spend time learning how to use them. They were part of the undead package, as it were.

Ophelia takes another drink as well, falling into a pattern of drink and talk, drink and talk, almost like the two of them were old friends. Though not of noble birth herself, Ophelia's family was wealthy enough to rival many of the nobility in holdings and assets and she did her best to spend as much time away from the dirty peasants and commoners as humanly possible in her youth.

Etiquette and manners were an integral part of fitting in to high society and she took to them quickly. Unfortunately, the fiasco of her father's demise followed swiftly by her own had left her in the hands of a brutish and uncultured lout. It feels to her like ages since she's had a proper conversation partner and despite herself she cannot help but continue to smile as they talk. The flattery doesn't hurt either.

"Ophelia inhales sharply through her nose in annoyance at the subject that has been brought up as if it reminded her of something unpleasant. "I have the misfortune of being... indebted to a man who once saved my life." Not entirely true, since she was dead at the time, but he did choose not to kill her /again/. "In order to repay that debt I am beholden to obey his wishes. Normally, we would not have stooped to the level of begging for aid, however, the strange darkness that has consumed our world also took with it our base of operations as well as all of our subordinates."

She sighs and leans back in her chair. "Until we can acquire enough resources to stand on our own legs once more, we have little choice but to shelter under their wings and they have taken the opportunity to lay their demands upon us, knowing well we can do naught but to comply."
Morrighan Alazne "Hmn, I see." Morrighan aceded calmly, resting her hands back into her lap and giving Ophelia her full attention. Templar eye candy could only last for so long anyhow. "So it is a debt owed, and a necessary evil of requiring aid enough to find enough time to stand alone once more." She nodded her understanding slowly, and then let out a brief sigh. "A troublesome situation indeed. But not one that is entirely unfortunate I would say." Smirking in amusement, the dark elf went on.

"I imagine that it is not too hard to make the most of the task afforded to you. Even if the organization behind you is abhorrent." That said, she chuckled to herself, bringing a hand to her mouth as if that would somehow help her stop. It didn't. "I must say, it is a breath of fresh air to find someone of your stature among these..." Pause as Morrighan takes a moment to look about, as if making a point. "...People. I had almost given up on the possibility of meeting someone who was not an outrageous zealot."
Ophelia Ophelia closes her eyes briefly and allows a soft giggle to let slip, also demurely covering her lips with one hand as if in a mirror of the other woman. "Indeed, your company is proving to be highly enjoyable, Morrighan. How fortunate that you happened upon me."

She glances back over at the templar and lowers her hand, revealing the wry smirk that has formed beneath. "Ah, yes... the rantings of an upjumped zealot make for tedious listening and there is naught much else to be found among their ranks. A pity. Many would make for a fine partner, would that they held an equal appreciation for class and beauty as they do the words of their dead saint."

The woman shrugs and turns back to Morrighan, resting her hands on her bare legs as she uncrosses and recrosses them again in a teasing fashion. "Atleast there is little harm in enjoying the view... hmm?"
Morrighan Alazne "Yes, that is true." She replied, lowering a hand. "Nevertheless, I hold no care for those so called zealots. After all, there is something much more interesting before me." Unashamedly, her eyes fell upon Ophelia's legs as she uncrossed and then recrossed her legs. "Beauty is something that should be...enjoyed wholeheartedly, yes?"

Her eyes rose then, meeting the not-templar's again. "I believe that I will enjoy working with you, if the time ever comes. Your company would be far more appreciated than the likes of which I have been previously subjected to." Not going to name names of course! That would be entirely rude. Coughfarujacressidavaloscough.

"Now then, if you ever require assistance of magical nature, feel free to call upon me, hmm?" All that out of the way, Morrighan lifted her tea cup to her lips, finishing the last of the tea. No need to waste now.
Ophelia Ophelia smiles openly across the table at her new friend, thoroughly basking in the compliment. Normally, she is not the kind of person to give back to others, but the strange meeting has left her in high spirits. "Indeed, I find it quite difficult to keep my attention elsewhere... and after I went through all this trouble to set up such a cozy place to keep my eye on them too..."

She doesn't sound particularly upset by this 'inconvenience' nor does the playful pout she gives Morrighan convey any such sentiment. "Your offer is quite generous, Morrighan. I believe that I shall indeed have a suitable need for someone of your talents in the near future. Perhaps I might even make an offer more... enticing than that which the Church has extended you."
Morrighan Alazne "Is that so?" A cursory glance is given to those training before her attention returns. "Alas, that pales in comparison to this." Morrighan smiled a rather playful smile in response to Ophelia's pout. Nodding slowly afterward. "Excellent. In that case, I suppose that you should know where I live. It is the large house on the southeastern edge of the city. The one patrolled by a floating magic bit. One can hardly miss such a thing now."

With that, the elven woman rose up to her feet, brushing away any sort of debris that may have gotten onto her before taking up the tome that she had come to this place to acquire in the first place. "As pleasant as this meeting has been, I should be returning home. I have much work to do. I do thank you for the tea and conversation however."

She stepped away from the chair, setting it back in place before adding. "This is farewell for now. Do take care of yourself, Ophelia. It would be a shame for such a fine specimen to be...lost." She waved a bit after than and then turned and started off, continuing down the way she was meant to have gone before this interruption. Well, perhaps visiting the cathedral now and then had it's merits after all.
Ophelia Ophelia smiles and returns the wave, sending the elf off with a farewell. She watches her go for a few moments, smiling at nothing in particular. It has been so long since she had someone to talk to like a normal person it almost feels like a foreign sensation. The vampire toys with the thought of turning Morrighan - it would be extremely easy, after all she has been invited to visit her home already. All she would need to do is--

A surge of pain lances through her head even before the thought can finish forming in her mind. An overwhelming wave of disapproval buffets her like a hammer blow and she immediately knows the source. Damn that man, did she have no privacy?

She fights back against his control, testing the bounds of the leash that binds her soul to him, but already she knows her display of stubborn pride will accomplish nothing. With great ease, Alexander's thoughts drown out her own in a tide of calm annoyance at her posturing and with regret she relents to his will. "I... I understand," she hisses and the pressure fades away, leaving her with a daunting headache.

Ophelia lets out a deep sigh and practically collapses back into her seat. Well, even if she couldn't offer that particular gift to the elf, she might still benefit their organization with her skills and even her master would have to relent on that issue. It was just the two of them, though she has plans to give Artyom his trial soon enough. He'd already proven his talent for handling the work they do and right now they need and scrap of help they can find.

This scene contained 15 poses. The players who were present were: Morrighan Alazne, Ophelia