Fire in the Shadows

The inspirations and inner thoughts of Lord Valdyr's secretive younger sibling

[virtuallyinsane]

by  Brandon Morales

[aethgar]

[aethgar]

New avenues

The paper rustles on my desk. There’s a stack of it, and as my eyes scan each document, some are placed to be filed, while others are calmly fed to the nearby hearth, to curl into ash and fly heavenward to whatever gods remain for our race.

With some of my reports out of the way, I found myself reaching to flick a smaller sheaf to peruse once again.

Raegan Leandre.

I have a description of her - height and estimated weight, suspected dress size. A lovely girl, but I expect no less from Vryce.

I was a tad shocked by her colouring, but I suppose Vryce isn’t bound to always bed redheads.

Not my own taste, in any event. From what I see here, she dances at a club.. and works at the Golden Sun tavern in the Ossan District. No dependants that my network could readily find.  

Vryce, when I spoke with him, seemed to think she might be of use to the family. He said she was clever, and observant. Good traits, and the boy has so far proven a good judge of character at least where his clever little wife is concerned. It makes his opinion passably useful.

I was delighted by Susie and Vryce producing yet another Valdyri child, and the doctors have informed me that Susie can return to noble society, where I am certain she will typically cut quite the swath.

Likely there will be fires to put out before long.

Such a delightful little thing.

I’m certain she’s well aware of Vryce’s current entertainment. Given Susie, and given Vryce’s attitude toward her, she’d almost have to be. 

What remains to be seen is whether Raegan Leandre is of any use to our family beyond keeping Vryce happy or at least.. sated. He’s a Valdyr after all.

I suppose that I shall have to pay the girl a visit. Vryce has already indicated that he told her I’d do so as Shadow, and while I find his perception often quite enjoyable, I’m not yet about to trust a lustful twenty-one-year old to make objective decisions about a woman he’s bedding.

I suppose I shall have to make the time, in any case.

@susievanderbilt​, @raegan-leandre​

[girlagainsthumanity]

Crowley (An Angel who did not so much Fall as Saunter Vaguely Downwards)

[aethgar]

[aethgar]

[fyeahtomhiddleston]

Movie: Crimson Peak

[altierra]

But the horror… The horror was for love.

[lokihiddleston]

[aethgar]

Ambience set

[susievanderbilt]

"Delicious." -Phillipa

[spavory]

“Uncle Aethgar you MUST convince her to pose for me, and her friend too, the beautiful woman she’s always with.”

[aethgar]

"Certainly, my dear girl...”

[chronomancer-aiden]

Following from this story arc.  

Another delivery arrived at Shadow’s Rest, again to the care of Lady Anweena Isenhart.   The trunk was large enough to house several medium-sized artifacts, a quaggan quartet,  a Lux-like weekend wardrobe, or, well, a properly tucked-in body.   Given the weight, should the servants gossip, it definitely could be any of the above.

But the note attached, written in plain paper and with nondescript calligraphy, said it all.

Freckles,

Now my wedding gift to you is complete. Put that dagger to good use. *unsigned, again*

Kristoff, while rendered unconscious in a chaos stasis of sorts, was carefully’folded’ inside the wooden capsule that was perhaps too small for his frame.  But Aiden gave no fucks for the man’s comfort level.  He’d be dead soon anyway.   

Once Anweena would open the crate, she’d find her tormentor weakened and seemingly asleep –his breathing as shallow as half the Reach’s socialites and his heartbeat as faint and subdued as Lord Melville trying to flirt with a barmaid.

Meanwhile, in the Collective’s private clinic…

“Just patch me up already, get this over with.  I’ve an assignment I can’t ignore.”

The mesmer medic paid no mind to Aiden’s protests, slipping his shimmery hands into a pair of sterilized surgical gloves, “Yes, well, you won’t do any of us any good in the state you’re in.   Just be glad I’m not writing this one up, since I know you were not on the job when you did whatever insanity you did this time.”

Clenching his jaw, Aiden conceded.  He was aware the mesmer medic was right.

“Patch me up,” Aiden grumbled.

The medic continued with his healing ritual, before casually, dryly, adding, “Don’t worry.  I’ll find a way to let Cora know.”  

He followed that with a knowing nod as Aiden glared up at him, the sedative kicking in and rendering the chronomancer unable to retort.  The medic continued about his business.

(( @anweenaisenhart @lipstickmirage ))

[aethgar]

The red-haired assassin sat on the window seat, beside his niece on a comfortable sofa in his private study where she was curled into a tiny ball. She was sobbing still, but weakly now. 

It had been some time, and Aethgar had learned that Anweena did not want to be touched when in the throes of memory. Of thinking over whatever had been done to her.

He spoke calmly. Matter-of-factly. He’d once discussed it with Stefan, the druid child he’d effectively raised, and the lad had spoken of comforting an animal who was afraid of people. 

She’d spoken only haltingly and rarely about the abuse she’d undergone. But she did generally calm over time after he’d sat and listened, or spoken quietly of simple things.

It was not a simple thing this time.

“Anweena, sweetling, this is not a thing you must.. or should.. face alone. You’ve been alone too often. We all love you, darling, and if you let us, we’ll help you face it. Let me help you once more. Trust me, An.” 

He’d said as much a number of times since she’d rushed into his study, to sob on his shoulder and explain that her past was literally about to arrive in person to be slain. 

But Aethgar could be persuasive, and had been whittling his niece down. He knew she could not face this man alone.

It would be profoundly, inutterably wrong. No. Let her see the justice her attacker merited. Let every Valdyr, everyone who cared for the girl strike out, let her see how treasured she truly was. And then, THEN let her blow be the final one.

If all went well, Kristoff’s death would be a much overdue, and well deservedly brutal one.

@arpyurrising, @susievanderbilt

[misanthropicmessiah]

[spavory]

@aethgar

[rosalyndhavashem]

Usually Phillipa sent him paintings, notes and secrets tucked between the backing and the canvas. The latest gossip and suspicions, events of notice, anything that he might find useful.

This time it was a small packet with a letter tucked in a tiny portrait painting of the Divinity’s Reach garden, an usual choice for her though the close observer could probably spot two women in a lover’s embrace hidden in the bushes–which was much more her style.

The secreted note was brief.

Uncle A. I’ve included in this package the portraits I’ve done based on descriptions of the missing since the White Mantle attack on the city. Your arm’s long reach may be able to do something with them. Pay extra attention to number 10, she isn’t missing but she’d been asking about topics that raised red flags.

Under the text was something was was obviously coded into keywords, among them Mantle Magic, Chosen and All Seeing Eye. @aethgar

[aethgar]

The package was intriguing.. its contents still more so. And well worth considering and exploring...

[aethgar]

[terrypratchettparadise]

Being an absolute ruler today was not as simple as people thought. At least, it was not simple if your ambitions included being an absolute ruler tomorrow. There were subtleties. Oh, you could order men to smash down doors and drag people off the dungeons without trial, but too much of that sort of thing lacked style and anyway was bad for business, habit-forming and very, very dangerous for your health. A thinking tyrant, it seemed to Vetinari, had a much harder job than a ruler raised to power by some idiot vote-yourself-rich system like democracy. At least they could tell the people he was their fault.

Terry Pratchett - Going Postal (via terrypratchettparadise)

[aethgar]

"When I look at you, I have no idea what I'm really looking at. It's wholly unnerving."

“Well, aren’t you observant..”

[aethgar]

Souma Yergon, Sou Nou Yergon We are shakin' the tree Souma Yergon, Sou Nou Yergon We are shakin' the tree

Waiting your time, dreaming of a better life Waiting your time, you're more than just a wife You don't have to do what your mother has done She has done, this is your life, this new life has begun

It's your day, a woman's day It's your day, a woman's day

Souma Yergon, Sou Nou Yergon We are shakin' the tree Souma Yergon, Sou Nou Yergon We are shakin' the tree

Turning the tide, you are on the incoming wave Turning the tide, you know you are nobody's slave Find your sisters or brothers who can hear all the truth in what you say They can support you when you're on your wayIt's your day, a woman's day It's your day, a woman's day

Souma Yergon, Sou Nou Yergon We are shakin' the tree Souma Yergon, Sou Nou Yergon We are shakin' the tree

Changing your ways, changing those surrounding you Changing your ways, more than any man can do Open your heart, show him the anger and pain, so you heal Maybe he's looking for his womanly side, let him feel

You had to be so strong And you do nothing wrong, nothing wrong at all We're gonna break it down We're gonna shake it down, shake it all around