Loyalists, he was raised among them. His entire life revolved around protecting them.
Thousands of years before the Legion first came, his family had swore loyalty to protect their Lord and thus was the beginning of the elite force the Stoneblades had become. A specialized unit trained since birth in ancient forms of combat that the Duskwatch guard did not even know. Mostly because their form of combat was terrifying to those with knowledge of magic which their people embraced. The Stoneblades blows could shatter the mana from any spellcaster’s body, and thus the deadly blades the lineage had created struck fear in the hearts of any they were ordered to terminate. The coming of the legion had separated the people of Suramar from the rest of the Kaldorei Empire and for all they knew, their world was destroyed outside those walls. And thus the techniques the Stoneblades used became an ancient tradition that was lost to almost all but this specialized unit.
Since their beloved city became closed off, the Stoneblades became the loyal hounds for the lord they served and in return they were treated better if not almost equal in respect. His family was so closely intertwined with the noble house that they knew their every inner working. Every enemy and every dirty secret as they were not without their zealous ways. Even Elisande would occasionally call upon her most loyal and thus they were sent to carry out her whim as they had proved most useful. The Stoneblades had become part of the fanatical supporters because their lord ordered it and for thousands of years they worked with the Duskwatch to keep their people in line.
They were feared, they were respected… they were hated.
Two days ago, Ramiaell became the youngest Stoneblade alive, the last in fact to have been born before his family was eradicated and the house they served along with them. He had a very estranged relationship with his parents, especially his father after an incident when he was barely a teen. There was no true love loss when he watched him die, but who’s fault was it that he felt that way? He was considered young even now among his people, barely a young adult. But he’d lived long enough in those hundreds of years to become fully accustomed to the structure and life of the nobility who never had to want for anything. To walk with such pride and prestige for so long but as a Stoneblade he had to earn that right and he had. His father made certain of it. And like all those before Ramiaell, he was hardwired and trained to live for nothing else than to fight like the muscle they’d bred him to be since he was old enough to walk.
And now he was forced to wander the streets as a mere lowly citizen, his penance for walking away instead of fighting to the bitter end. But he wasn’t one of them. He didn’t belong among the citizens nor the loyalists. He didn’t truly belong anywhere, not after what they’d made him. So where did a highly trained security detail who knew no other life turn when he had noone left to protect. There were many lords and houses that would take him in just because of his family’s name alone. As hated as the Stoneblades were they were more feared and for good reason which is why they saw fit to eradicate every one of them along with the lord they’d served. But if word got out that one survived, that -he- had lived, he’d be hunted and put any he swore to serve at risk. And yet the question remained, did he even want to go back to that life? Did he wish to protect those who were still doing what had been done to him? He knew the loyalists' secrets, their vile and disgusting games within the courts and what they were doing to their own people to pacify their boredom living day to day to keep fear and order. It was sad, it was wrong, and since when had he grown a conscious about it.
His family had raised him to be void of such emotions. Maybe it had worked too well, because in the end he chose to be completely numb as he watched the light fade from his father’s eyes before he walked away. Numb to the fact that his brother, his mother… his family’s whole legacy and the house they’d sworn loyalty too had fallen before his eyes. He knew it wasn’t his doing, he wasn’t the one to blame. So he felt nothing as he walked away from it all, just as his father had walked away from him when he needed him most. He hadn’t forgotten, he never would. But what now?
Hunt, or be hunted. Those were his choices, that was his reality. A professional killer was always needed, even in this beloved city. At least as an assassin, he could choose who he worked for. He was tired of being a loyal dog, time to go astray.
((A look into Rami’s thoughts during a big turning point in his life, thousands of years ago from now when he was still rather young by elven standards.))
@daily-writing-challenge
After another long productive day of training and errands, both entertainer and bodyguard return back to their home to continue with more work. Beaureve always felt accomplished if he had felt the ache in exerting his body and was in need of a shower. He was far from the glamorous man saw on stage right now, with hair pulled back and his sweaty workout clothing in layers over him. Slipping out of his shoes where they are always placed, the entertainer grumbles and finds his way to the living area with a heavier satchel of request than usual. There were packages in the midst of everything which usually indicated different kind of requests.
Slumping on the sofa, he stares at the ceiling for a few moments as he knows he has to deal with this. And the sooner the better. Unearthing the contents of his bag and sorting the letters in meticulous fashion to review, he would have to judge and book accordingly through all of these. Ripping open one of the packages after the basic letters were dealt with, he produces a long letter of what seemed to be poetry and compliments along with shallow promises accompanied with expensive jewelry. Already bored, the entertainer rolls his eyes over it. He was sure this person that had sent this found themselves quiet charming in this attempt to woo him. It would be one of a handful this week.
After a sigh, Beau skims through the writing for anything at all relevant. He opens the elaborate box that held some crafted ear cuffs in an arrangement of beautifully crafted metals and gems that were meant to take the breath away of any appreciator. Beaureve was not an easy man to impress, but at least he could assume that the value of the object was high and it earns a slight nod of approval. Sliding the box on the table he takes out his planner for the upcoming couple of months and a ledger with descriptive notes. He was already making a note of selling this item as it was from someone that knew he would not wear gifts from them. It was their own choice to send, but he didn't stand for people thinking they owned him because he accepted a token from them.
Looking over the planner getting ready to confirm his appointments of the week, there was a note that catches his eye. He had not memorized this one so it out of place for him. It was in Ramiaell's handwriting, with the simple word 'Dinner' in a designated time slot. It had him fluster quickly in the ears and tops of his cheeks. Perhaps this was not romantic to many, but to Beau? It was exceedingly so. Ramiaell had taken the time to notice what heavy schedule he had and picked out an optimal time to alleviate the stress during that series of intense days with a planned dinner. Like he just knew....
His lover had emerged from the kitchen with a small tray. A couple waters and brewing tea in pot with cups. Pointing to the green tea blend in the pot, he speaks directly. "For muscle recovery." Ramiaell's supported a rather neutral expression, but he looked Beaureve in the eyes as if dictated it was meant especially for him. It earned him an appreciative slow smile from the entertainer. In everything the man of Stone did, it was all for the priest's well being. There was never a time that Beau didn't feel it. Their contract forged that had started as hiring him as a protectorate, had developed into more on paper as well as practically. Again, even if people could not understand how this was endearing to the both of them it worked for the two of them. It was if he just found someone that finally understood the language he was speaking in. And suddenly the world they more than accepted they would be alone in? Gained them a chance to discover what their version of what friendship and love could feel like.
"Thank you." Beaureve nods about the tea and watches as the other sits with him, taking up the ledger to help him make notes. "So. The beginning of next week then. Dinner is it?" he was acknowledging the plans and Ramiaell glances over. Only Beau could tell there was a hint of a slightest smile. "If that is acceptable." were his only words about this right now. Another nod is cast before the priest reaches over to place on the man's leg. "Very acceptable." he confirms but knowing that they could talk more in detail later moves on to the business that needed to be finished up.
Everyone has a different view on romance and for Beaureve, he was discovering for himself it was about the small things. The genuine things. Never filled with the superficial words or extravagant gifts or traditional societal expectation. Something that was beyond the physical. It was about sharing an everyday without the glamor. It was about knowing how to take care of someone. There were so few people that could actually be able to really take care of this tycoon in the making, for he was extremely independent and ambitious but Ramiaell proved he was more than capable. Had so many skills he lacked while complimenting others. And they kept teaching each other about those parts of life they just never were able to live before meeting one another. And all of this was being created without any semblance of Beau's mind abilities, because they were essentially useless against Ramiaell's barriers against magic.
So sitting with one another and creating schedules and revising goal journals was something real and worthwhile. While the monetary was driven for in Beaureve, at the end of his day it was what that represented when he finally had enough of it. It symbolized freedom and eventually a making of a new empire for those that craved for a different life than they were forced to live. Sharing this dream with Ramiaell instead of keeping it all to himself had given Beaureve something people accused him not having. A heart.
(( What can I say. Beaureve is not a usual person when it comes to romance. But neither is his partner! They are both cold as ice and hard as stone most times, because no one really knows their language. It really was a miracle these two met each other when they did. I enjoy rping their developments very much.)) @daily-writing-challenge @ramiaell
Breaking and entering, not something new for him but it was the first time he had done so with a client he was bodyguarding. The Howling Owl’s employee apartments were not hard to break into, especially when this one left the balcony door unlocked. With the shadows wrapped tightly around him he snuck in and did a full sweep to make sure the apartment was secure before letting Beaureve sneak inside too. Of course due to the sweep and the small size of the apartment it was easy to tell that noone was home.
It had been a few years since he and Konietzko had last spoken, this was not how he’d have guessed they’d reunite, if at all. It was also not in a place like this that he’d expect to find him. Keeping to the shadows he witnessed as his new client chose not to poke and prod around the apartment much at all but took right to the sofa and curled up. He had not been guarding him for long yet, but he did wonder if this sort of nuance was typical of him. They both waited in silence for the Kaldorei to arrive home and since he was hidden in the shadows himself, there was no conversation between him and his client. He watched as the time passed and Beaureve fell fast asleep on that sofa as if stress and current events in his life had caught up with him.
It was well into the night when the door opened and Kon arrived home, stepping down the hallway and passing by the entryway right into the kitchen without even looking into the living room as why would he? He turned on a light in the kitchen and started a kettle making some tea as he began washing his hands. The shadow in the room witnessed his first look at the Kaldorei after this time without his knowing. He looked tired and a bit fatigued but not due to poor health. If anything his health seemed to have increased greatly since they last met. He must have just returned from some sort of physical activity as he was still a bit dark in the cheeks, chest and ears from a good workout and was tending to blisters on his hand. Interesting.
Beaureve was starting to wake from the sounds in the kitchen as Konietzko put the tea on the stove and started to walk into the living room, stopping dead in his tracks with a double take to the sofa when he saw the moving body of the Shal’dorei waking up from his nap. Stone steadied himself, tucked in the shadows just behind him ready to stop him at a moment’s indication he might try to harm his client. Beyond an understandable startle he didn’t, he just jerked and stared.
“Took you long enough.” Beaureve said stifling a small yawn as he rubbed at his eyes. “I mean… welcome home.”
“Well, I am terribly sorry for the inconvenience!” Kon replied with a mix of humor and shock both as he looked Beaureve over closely before opting to go to the chair next to the sofa. “Had I known I was playing host I would not have stayed so late practicing my routine. Now tell me… to what do I owe the honor of this…” He motioned to the balcony. “... break-in?”
With a smirk breaking over his lips, Beaureve just smiled. “You are forgiven. This time.” He said perfectly aware he was in the wrong but calmly combed out his hair as he sat there pleasantly.
“Well it’s my lucky day I suppose, you’ve taught me a valuable lesson.” Kon said walking then over to the balcony door and pulling aside the curtains slowly looking outside. He’d close the door then slowly, pursing his lips as if he was looking for something. “I need to invest in better locks, or lock the door at all it would seem.” He said somewhat bemused yet he turned around and looked about the room with a slow gaze of his amber eyes.
“Practice? Routine? Mm, so you’re turning your aspirations into reality. That’s rather wonderful to hear.” Beaureve said as he watched. “And in my defense, I did try to knock on the door first. However, after coming all this way with noone to answer? It was in my best interest to see if there was a way to wait inside.” The priest said only telling part of the story but it was enough. “And with how many letters I had to write up in order to actually receive word and meeting arrangements… I preferred a more direct approach.” He smirked. “You don’t mind. We can speak a bit now.” the priest said not leaving this open ended.
Kon stepped back over to the couch then and would find the chair to sit in as he tried to piece this all together. “Perhaps you came here seeking Talthorn? He is here often lately I’ll admit but not when I’m gone.” He said eyeing the priest a little suspiciously but he was far calmer about it than Talthorn had been. “Did you seek my contact I gave you?” He asked resisting the urge to look around the room once more.
“No. I am here to see you.” The priest says bluntly. “Yes. I did.” He replied to the latter question before moving right along. “Now we can officially make arrangements. As promised. When are you available?”
Kon stared at Beaureve and his audacity with a small smirk. “I suppose I can’t be upset considering how Talthorn did choose to ignore your letters till I found them. As much as I love him dearly he has his reasons for acting as he did. But I am not him.” He pointed out as he thought a moment before responding. “You did?” He redirected the conversation back to the point on the contact. “And did he accept?”
Beaureve seemed pleasantly welcome to this information and eager to ask more. “Are these reasons that you are willing to share at all?” he asked before Kon redirected the conversation. “He did. Very interesting man. This contact of yours. We’ve made a good business arrangement. Thank you again for your recommendation. I aspire to have a meeting with my issue whenever he gets my word. In the next few days most likely.”
Kon knew who he was talking about with this recent issue. Well he more knew -of- them from what Beaureve and Talthorn both had told him of that incident that left Beaureve wounded and carried to the healer’s ward after Talthorn had saved him. Even the shadow in the room knew the details enough to understand this comment and where it was going.
“Talthorn’s secrets are his own to share. I will only say for whatever it’s worth that his… mistrust is a valid one.” Kon looked right to Beaureve then. “Even if you were not the cause for them, just a trigger. But that is all the more I will say. If you want trust or his truths? That’s going to take time Beaureve. Time, and a significant lack of your magic. But in that too I will say no more. I’ve only said this much in the interest of trying to make this easier. For both of you.” Kon explained rubbing at his palms and the ache within them as he sighed and looked to the side. “So, the contract was made. That is good, though forgive me if I wish to make certain.” Kon said oddly as he raised his head then and would stare Beaureve right in the eyes as he spoke out louder. “Show yourself, old friend.”
Beaureve listened closely and drew in a slow breath. He was taking much from these statements but why? Why was there mistrust?! The priest was eager to figure that out. When he realized what Kon had said just then, however, he added in his own command in case his bodyguard was truly as strict as not to do so unless ordered. “Hm? Oh. Of course. Yes, please reveal yourself, Stone.”
No sooner than Beau had given the command, the shadows against the far wall on the other side of the dining room table would start to shift and lift as soon a voice was heard before the body was seen. Where Kon’s voice was deep and full of bass, his was low but more crisp and sharp. “While some things never change, some things… do. It has been a time, Kon.” The bodyguard stood leaning against the wall in full gear head to toe. Blades on his side and no doubt many more hidden throughout his attire. His face was masked, as always and those eyes as cold as winter skies peered right back at Kon’s as they made eye contact across the room.
For one who’s home was being invaded, Kon certainly didn’t seem too worked up over it. As his amber eyes met Stone’s, they softened just a bit. A hint of a sad yet genuine smile almost shadowed along his face. How bittersweet this was. “Some things do indeed, though you are not one of those things I would ever ask to change. Please, come. Sit with us. You know he is in no danger here.” Kon said motioning to the couch next to Beaureve.
Beaureve motioned to the couch as well. “Yes, join us.” He confirmed and watched the exchange between them, both seeming interested in this reunion between them. At first, Stone did not move. But eventually he pushed off form the wall to step over and stand at Beaureve’s side.
“Quite the place here, I see you’ve returned to the club scene afterall?” Stone quipped as he looked firmly down at Kon having already done his research on this place before they arrived.
"I have, though not intentionally at first. But after my seclusion from the world and the dream therapy it seems... I was ready to come back. Though certainly not with such old habits as I indulged in before. Of that... I endeavor to stray from as much as possible." His eyes then flicked to Beaureve well aware he was listening and oddly enough, he didn't seem to mind. ``I think you'll come to agree in no time at all that Sivah would have liked this one. Perhaps even -you- will." He playfully smirked towards Stone.
Beaureve enjoyed collecting the information he could, seeing how they both reacted with one another. He wears his smile and finds the details intriguing but blinks at the mention here. "Sivah? Who is that? And why would they like me? " he tips his head and looks back to Stone.
Stone met his gaze. “Sivandris Lumenstone, owner of the Starcaller Lure and heir to the Lumenstone Estate.” He told him as if just reciting information. “He had a way about collecting rare gems, like yourself. And each of them came with their own troubles that I always had the privilege of helping sort.” And that was all the more Stone seemed willing to share.
As Stone had decided that was all the more that needed said, Kon and Beaureve spent the rest of the night discussing how their arrangement would work. As Talthorn was to give Beaureve a date of his choosing once a month, Kon would under the same rules to help make up for Talthorn’s lack of his part of the deal in the beginning of their original arrangement. By doing so Talthorn would have the ease that Beaureve would no longer be trying to sell his rare drug to anyone of the Tarts nor of the Owl so long as it was a function put on by either group or when in Talthorn’s presence. It was an exchange no one would ever know even had taken place, all for the comfort that Talthorn could protect his friends and fellow entertainers from this mind-altering drug that he had no power to stop him from creating. However, Kon saw it fit by the end of this meeting here in his home to call Beaureve out. To him, this seemed like an overly complicated agreement in contract that they would be meeting as friends to do things that friends would willingly do without a contract because they were… friends? But to Beaureve that was not the case at all. He could not understand the concept of friends so to him this was a contract and he expected it to be upheld. Despite having his point made, Kon agreed and pushed the subject no longer. The entire exchange was witnessed by Stone, but he said nothing during it. Just observed in complete silence as he did for most his guard detail he’d signed on for with Beaureve. It was not his job to state his thoughts nor opinions on any matters Beaureve had to deal with. It was only his job to ensure his safety. Thankfully, one could do that with very little said as he was not one for idle conversation. Ever. But he did not think he’d be meeting Kon again, let alone under such circumstances. It was interesting how life had a way of bringing things left unresolved back around. Even among former friends.
Stone came to realize much had changed for the Kaldorei, not all but there was something very significant that he noticed right away in Kon that had not been there before. He’d come a long way on the road to recovery, and in doing so had begun truly turning his life around for the better. While Stone did not intend to be his ‘friend’ at that time and just to let everything go and move on, he was curious enough to see just where this would all lead for his current client’s future. Beaureve had alot to experience now in his ‘free’ life. Stone wasn’t so certain that experiencing it through Kon and the others he was associated with was the best way, but he wasn't paid to give his thoughts nor opinions on those matters either. They were invalid. At that time, he had only one job to do. And when the threat returned, he would do it. After that, the priest was on his own.
“Next week. At the same point we met before in Suramar. Wear something similar to that. You seem very comfortable. I’ll take care of the rest.” Beuareve said to the expectant Kaldorei as he rose to leave.
Kon took a slow breath in and let it back out as he nodded his head once. “A word to the wise Beaureve, what Talthorn and I want is not always what others think. But I can easily see the same could be said for you.” The Kaldorei’s eyes shifted back to Stonel then. “You are going to have your hands full with this one.”
Stone drew his gaze to Kon, “You’ve never been one to make my job easy. But we both know, that is where I thrive.”
“Oh I do.” Kon said with a laugh and a smirk to follow as he watched them both turn to leave. “It will be quite the… learning experience.” He teased at Beaureve before flashing Stone a knowing look. As usual, he got no response from Stone, just that stone-faced stare before he turned away and escorted Beaureve out. “Next week then.” Kon said as he watched them go and looked to the couch in thought. Maybe he would omit that part to Talthorn; he doubted his love would ever be able to let go the thought of Beaureve breaking into his apartment. What a little shit.
((A former rp from last year recapped in a shorter format though it still includes both our writing. A fun look at the beginnings of Talthorn, Kon, Beaureve and Rami’s friendship that few know about. While the rp has gone places none of us could imagine at that time, it has been a real trip to reflect back to this rp and the reunion of Kon and Stone as witnessed by Beau. Mentions too @beaureve-lunathas , @talthorn-sylvoran , @konietzko-lumenstone ))
Some called it brainwashing. We called it training. That morning, I only earned a bloody nose for showing any semblance of brotherly love. Liam got much worse for showing me pity. He was older, he should have known better. He made sure we both wouldn't forget this time.
"Pity is an emotion that can get you killed. The only thing more dangerous is blind hate, and love."
The art of suppressing your emotions and keeping yourself in check in an intense mental clarity and calm was the harshest of the training we underwent. They say you're supposed to grow up with loving parents and enjoy your childhood freedom and innocence. My mother was an arranged marriage for my father by our Lord and grandfather just as every woman was for any of the Stoneblades for generations. It was only so it looked well and proper on paper before the courts. There was no love. Rather we bread sons or daughters, we were raised the same. Sex didn't matter, only a name and a bloodline. If we proved defective as we were raised and incapable of letting all else go, then we were dealt with via our training. Emotions got us killed in one way or another even if we weren’t the ones who pulled the trigger.
Before they gave us our first tattoos we had to first prove that we were in total control of our emotions. The runes that were placed on us had to be kept in check, we were barely allowed to feel pride once we achieved them. There was no ceremony, no graduation. It was just the next step before you became ready for field training. We were taught at a very young age that the true way to a man’s heart is six inches of metal between his ribs. Sometimes four inches would do the job but why take risks.
Villiam was the head of our unit, he was my father and he was still overseen by our grandfather Vilas. They prized Liam, he was the next in line. Their successor and the older we got the more it became a competition between us. An incident that occured when I was still a boy, or more the equivalent of a young teen by human standards, had become my trigger to turn it all off. It was the last time I was allowed to cry, the last time any of them would ever see it. It was also my first kill in the field. I was too young to have been given that level of field training, but after that day they gave me my tattoos. Maybe Liam would have gotten his too, but he had let his emotions impair him and paid the price. With the ancient runes forever etched on my skin, from that moment on my real training began.
On this particular day not too long before the big Love is in the Air event with the Succulent Tarts, Beaureve had asked Ramiaell if he would mind helping him make a decision. The two of them were on their way to the studio where Beaureve and Ramiaell spent most of their time as it was a convenient location and large enough studio. Usually Beaureve went his own way to rehearse and practice his vocals while Ramiaell secured the location locking it down before he would dedicate time to his lengthy workout regime to keep his own skills honed. Ramiaell had agreed to help him, he wasn’t certain how much help he’d be in such an area but he did have opinions even if he never voiced them nor let them show. While he and Beaureve were still trying to understand and discover whatever this odd… development between them was as of late, he had come to know just how important his work was to him and his goals for the future he was working hard to achieve. It was admirable, what would it hurt to offer his thoughts if that was what he wanted.
With a towel in hand, he was wiping off his excess sweat and drinking some water as he made his way down the halls after his training, following the sound of Beaureve’s voice. While the room he practiced in was made for proper acoustics he could still hear him enough. He appreciated that Beaureve did not put on his usual glamour when here either, there was no special attempt to grab the attention of others anytime they came here for him to practice. He’d never tell him he’d noticed it, he’d learned long ago to never tell someone who might be vain of their flaws. Though he still wasn’t certain how vain Beaureve really was when he wasn’t putting on a show.
"Ah, wonderful timing." Beaureve confirmed and gestured for the other to join him. Ramiaell found a place to sit for now, still trying to cool down his body. The priest adjusted his sonic environment enhancer before going to speak with Ramiaell about this. "So to start off in context. The troupe I am a part of. They are having a Love is in the Air celebration with many performances. They are a rather...trendy mindset with much of their music? Known for more burlesque shows too at times, but this is not to be on the level of too risque. However, as I am really trying to make my public shows focus on more of my grand show theatric with mild emphasis on more sensual displays, I wanted to give the audience that wants to see these sorts of performances something impactful. A different sort of awe. Nothing silly, nothing meaningless.."
"I follow," He said with a firm nod. Ramiaell had seen hundreds of performances in his lifetime at the Starcaller Lure of course most of them were erotic in nature. During his earlier years before his family and the house they served fell, he was dragged to many operatic performances and shows befitting that of nobility. So while he did not usually express much about them, he had a good basis of what would wow a crowd and what wouldn't.
The priest turns around to look over Ramiaell hoping he was in place so he could begin. There is a strange moment that flutters in his chest as he stares over, Beau realizes he's actually a touch nervous. Why was not yet identified, but it was good to have that feeling. It made it mean something.
Rami watched and waited as he stared into Beau's eyes wondering if he was making him nervous already or if he was just excited. When Beaureve felt Ramiaell was ready, he gave a nod to him. He pressed the button and knew he had a few moments to walk during the light parts of the piano that played. Making his way to the part of the floor he held his eyes down and the keys came to lead him to the first opening of the song.
"I'm trying to hold my breath." his air comes in his lungs as he holds it after a short purposeful sound of breath. "Let it stay this way. Can't let this moment end." As he moves his hand to form a slow fist in determination.
Ramiaell watched his face, his body language. No good singer let alone performer could help from putting some real feeling into their work even when practicing. Yet as Beaureve started his voice literally filled the room from the start, it didn't exactly shock him but he was feeling a very small tingle somewhere in him. Beau's eyes moved over to Ramiaell's own singing to him now. "You set off a dream in me..." A smile came over his lips before the next words. "Getting louder now, can you hear it echoing." His hand opens up toward the man hearing this music. "Take my hand. Will you share this with me? Cause darling without you..."
Ramiaell started to become that stone faced man he usually was, refusing to show what he truly thought but a whisper in Beau’s voice hit his head. 'don't hide from me'. He almost had to look behind himself but didn't, the voice echoing in his mind making that stony visage ease as he stared at Beaureve like he saw only him. There were more voices in his head though, voices that were far older screaming at him that this was weakness and to remain firm. A good performer could make anyone who watched them feel like they were singing directly to them. Ramiaell wasn't certain if it was because of this recent development they were both experiencing in their hearts and heads or if it was just because he was that good. But what was clear, was that he was truly captivating. And this wasn't even with his full performance mode!
The hand curled up slowly came down as Beaureve looked around as if to see what he envisions. "All the shine of a thousand spotlight. All the stars we steal from the night sky. Will never be enough. Never be enough. Towers of the gold are still too little. These hands could hold the world but it'll never be enough....Never be enooooough. For me."
"Never, Never!"
When the song started to pick up and Beau's voice truly resonated with the music, there was a strong thud in his chest, and a slight skip as his eyes started to faintly reflect that he was in a state of awe. It was little, but for Rami it was there. Sure he'd heard him practicing, heard his voice quite a bit by now but sitting there front and center while capturing his attention was an experience all of its own.
"Never, Never!"
As the song progressed, the more dramatic and warm Beau's voice got. His hands came out as if they were an anchor for him to really go for an almost opera feel to this song in its intensity. It became stronger where it should and brought it up right to the dynamic climax it deserved in a show of his range and skill with his voice resounding in the room with a force that could not be denied. It really felt that Beau got wrapped up in the feel of the music and as his final part of voice melodically called out, slowly setting his hand on his chest. He could feel the pound of his heart in his very ears slowly dying in the background.
He looked over Ramiaell with his own need to catch his breath. His hands folding together carefully with his eyes still searching. "Impressions...?" he manages to say with a half smile on his lips. "Or should I...just give you the next song to compare."
When the last few notes were sung, he continued to stare unblinking and for a moment speechless or so it seemed. Truth be told he wanted to express something that was very uncharacteristic of him. But he refrained, too well trained and conditioned to get that lost in any moment but it was there in his eyes as he finally blinked once. "That was truly... captivating." He said as he snapped from his minor daze and sat back more in his chair as he motioned a hand out towards him. "This next one is going to have quite the competition. But yes, I would like to hear it. To compare of course."
As Beaureve awaited his review he felt a unique quiver inside just seeing how it affected Ramiaell sitting there. He -knew- this man had seen so many performances in his lifetime. Perhaps not a part of them all, but all sorts of different music with an assortment of talents. Ramiaell didn't have to be on his feet or falling out of his chair to speak that he had touched in ways the singer wished. His eyes spoke volumes. The difference between singing at, and singing for were definite distinctions Beau was making. With his heart still pounding hard in his chest, he can feel a touch of a laugh leave him. "Mm, you say that." he turns around to adjust the player again, content to hopefully drive out any attempt to flush on his own face after that vocal workout. "However, it might be this one that could really win this crowd over." A few breathes and mental preparation to shift to a more opera-esque focus.
Turning back around, the music starts off gentle as the other did to create the mood. It gives him time to take his place in a slow, but purposeful step as this too was a part of the performance. His voice would begin to flow out to greet his audience in Ramiaell. "Never knew, I could feel like this. Like I've never seen the sky befooore. Want to vanish inside your kiss." his fingers move to hover closer to his lips. "Every day I love you more and more."
Ramiaell watched him turn away to reset the player. While pretty he didn't think too much of the beginning that is till he heard the lyrics coming forth from his mouth as he stared right back at Beaureve. His eyes watched those fingers as they touched along his lips. His eyes snapping back to his face as he listened to that voice truly sing out.
"Listen to my heart, can you hear it sing." His voice begins to take on a more rich feel. "Telling me to give you eeeeeverything. Season may change, winter to spring. But I love you, until the eeend oooof time." he smiles and would allows the words to start develop into bloom. "Come what maaay. Cooome what maaay~"
Watching him just wasn't like watching any other, it was like being in a waltz with him and seeing him truly enjoy himself as he expressed himself physically and vocally yes but moreso emotionally. Did he even know he was doing it? Was this why he was so sought after? The way he made him feel like he was singing this song directly to him made his mind teeter back and forth. Surely he wasn't singing it -for- him, this was just how good he was as a performer. It had to be. But that didn't stop it from captivating him as he found himself unable to look away and that heartbeat in his chest beating harder with every breath.
There was no question that Beaureve was meant to sing these sorts of works with both his natural and trained talents. His hand would instinctively weave as if knew places where spell could be cast, but no divine would sprout from him here. Since he had gone from wanting to see genuine reaction to his music opposed to a cast of enthrall, he would let just his voice be that to create magic.
As the music comes to the final parts of the song, Beaureve would again fall into this area in which the melody was his very lifeblood, letting his voice take his audience to where he was in emotions that would only ever be there when he was singing like this. The last line echoes and his hand flared out would close to symbolize the end of the song as the music is meant to linger just a touch longer.
Almost wild eyed with the new sensation of high, he meets Ramiaell's eyes as he slowly comes down. A gradual smile crosses his lips as he shakes inside. What the fel was wrong with him? There was a new element to his music that even he could feel! There was no way he could explain it to this man in front of him. Not right now. He had to figure this out. For now? Beau tried to catch his breath again and remained unmoved from his spot he took on this studio floor. "A bit more encompassing I think. What do you feel?" The priest looked over Ramiaell as he processed both the renditions of the song.
Rami’s eyes met with his, he didn't dare look away. He couldn't, and Beaureve would see a look of bewilderment in his eyes, however subtle and restrained, it was there. As was a slight hint of color in his cheeks that he was failing to hide as his mask wasn't on currently, it must be the workout still affecting him. In that small momentary lapse of silence shared between them and their gaze he found himself almost smiling right back at him as he saw that small gradual smile across his lips, as if his own was unwillingly coming forth feeling that equal need to just admire and smile at him. But when Beau tried to catch his breath so too would Ramiaell as he cleared his throat and fought the urge to go to him. Maybe a day would come when he wouldn't fight this but right now it went against everything he’d lived for and trained for. Honestly he didn’t really even know what this feeling truly was and if it was even alright to feel it. He still felt he had no business! But it was there, and he couldn't deny it.
Both hands came down onto his knees as he leaned forward a little, then raised one hand up to rub across his face as if wiping away his flush as it went back and up along the top of his shaved head. "I, feel many things if I'm honest. I, was not certain what to expect but you have a true talent Beaureve. I'm in awe of your wonder." He motioned that hand out towards him then. "You have a way about you that makes you feel like you're singing your very heart and soul to your audience, however long ago you learned that talent I am uncertain but it shows. I don't truly know how the audience couldn't be captivated even without your magic about you, your voice... is majestic as much as it is angelic."
There were still throbs of aftermath in sharing this with the man in front of him. Beaureve was used to listening to recordings of himself, viewing orbs. Since his only people that were relatively close would just gape and not say anything productive, it was difficult to get honest feedback. When Ramiaell just offered this smile and had the priest seeming to even seem shy for a few glimpses of time. As if he was not allowed to see this man like this, quickly he tried to gather himself up also trying to subtly wipe off the color they wore.
"I am honored you think so..." he said after his praise but also to know how it portrayed where this song was coming from. Beau had no one that described it like that, and it felt....really good. Valued. Appreciated. "After much in the way of looking at compositions, I thought these would be very good contenders for a festival that is wanting to paint a picture of a dynamic way about....love." It was a subject that he sang about enough to know it had to pierce the heart and soul to really make a true impression. Lust was a different matter altogether! And even that he was really good at. Moving up closer as the performances were done now. "Do you feel one would be better suited for the troupe? The first one I feel is...centering deeper on myself. The next feels more involving me with my audience." his eyes glimmer over Ramiaell as he wishes his heart would stop pumping too fast!
As he approached Rami followed him with his eyes, sitting up straighter as his hands went more to his thighs then as he considered how to answer that. "I believe you're on the right track and have successfully conveyed 'love' as it is known in both. I think both would belong to such an audience as you have described them to me, and if anything I'd choose more based on how you wished to approach your audience. Are you wanting to offer them something more personal and deep about yourself? Or are you wanting to hit them here." He said, raising a hand up to his chest over his heart area. "Both have the ability to captivate, awe and move but the second would cater to a much more vast array of people I feel." He lowered his hand then as he considered something for a moment.
"I guess in another attempt to explain, the first feels more like this is me, I am here, and this is me crying out to the world. The second..." He thought for a moment as he reached up to slide fingers along his own chin. "... offers more devotion and depth to the subject. And displays more depth and range of your voice." He paused then as he looked up at him in the eyes. "Well, that's not entirely true. Both do that in their own way." He twitched a little feeling he was just rambling now and not too fond of it. He wasn't the kind to ramble and speak without meaning. Well, it wasn't without meaning it just was too wordy for his taste. Hmm... interesting.
Beaureve would listen attentively as the other shared his insights on the selections and his eyes widened as he continued to delve more on his own thoughts on the subject. He looked at Ramiaell's chest and mms. Not feeling the man rambling in at all, he remains fixated on how he speaks about the songs. He nods firmly and is giving this serious thought! He usually had an array of effects to stimulate his audience with too. He seems to be in his own little thought bubble for a bit longer and then reaches out himself. A hand needed some grounding as he felt a bit in the clouds with his mystical thought. "All of what you have said helps, Ramiaell. These perspectives were very important for me. Something I could not easily do on my own." There is some resolution in his eyes, as if he had made a decision already. He truly enjoyed singing and performing. It showed when he was on any stage, but he was still trying to figure out why this was different to him when in front of this man.
As that hand reached out, he'd not even hesitate to slowly raise his own hand to take it as he would rise up from his seat and stand before him as he listened. "I'm glad my insight was useful then." He slowly started to raise his hand up then as he spoke. "Your voice alone has the power to move people, even me." He admitted as he would then kiss the back of his knuckles for just a moment. Even a man of stone had been well trained and versed in how to conduct himself gentlemanly. It was almost more a proper gesture than anything but there was something more felt there as he did it even if slow, short and simple. He'd then raise his head back up as he lowered his hand once more. "May I ask which you will choose?"
The priest was so grateful for that hand to hold on to, it seemed to make a physical effect over him and he watched the man rise with a smile to welcome this response. "It has. I understand that much more. And matters with this troupe, I feel the audience needs a specific focus." When Ramiaell reveals his voice had the power to move him, he stares at the other, feeling the other treating him like a gentleman with that tender kiss on his knuckle. He forgot how to speak, holding in his breath making it seem as if he were just taking in more of his words. Beaureve was in his own state of strange feeling and refreshment of color. Concentrating on his question, he refused to have that hand go just yet. ".....the second one is my choice for this performance. I plan on making it a rather memorable spectacle." he gave his hand a small, warm squeeze. "And you'll have to let me know if it moves you again in full blossom when you see it fully on stage." Beaureve felt something unique in knowing Ramiaell would just be there for this.
Ramiaell let his thumb gently slide along his hand as he held it and found himself starting to smile a little more gazing down at the shorter elf as even now he spoke and acted with such a grace to him at least in his eyes. "I will be watching, though my face will be hidden as we will be in public, I will let you know how much it moves me."
@daily-writing-challenge
Mentions and fellow Writer @beaureve-lunathas
The chosen song was beautifully performed live at the @succulent-tart's Love is in the Air 2021 and Beaureve let that voice ring true! This was a fun reflection of the rp that had lead up to that song choice. And a personal memory between Beaureve and Stone of when that particular song became something more for the both of them.
“Mr. Stone, they tell me you like to be called thus yes?”
He was part of the aristocracy of Suramar, in recent years he’d become an elf of exceptional wealth, power and influence thus a thorn in many of their sides among the courts. I had a vague notion why he summoned me here. This tycoon wanted someone dead.
“Speaking.” It was all the more confirmation he needed.
“Just as short spoken as promised too, how delightful.” He purred with a certain eloquence that I was not overly fond of. Typical for those higher up. “Allow me to make this short then for you, I’ve use for an elf of your ‘talents’ and I would like you to fight for me in an honor duel.”
It wasn’t the first time I’d witnessed Tal’ashar among the courts, nor the first time I’d seen someone of my family asked to be a champion. The question was… did he know? I didn’t give an inch as to what I was thinking, just stared at him in silent thought.
“I know you’ve been laying low for some time now Mr. Stone, and while I respect your reasoning I believe it’s time for you to stop wasting your talents with petty thieves and corrupted officials. When you win this duel for me, I will offer you a contract you can’t refuse to further aid me and those I seek to protect.”
I still said nothing, just narrowed my eyes a bit more. Where was he getting his intel, or was he that overly confident? I just wasn’t buying it, I was missing something.
“I assure you Mr. Stone, I am quite serious about this and will happily explain what I envision and seek to build but first I must make a grand statement that I am not an elf to be trifled with. And to do that, I need not just any champion. I need you.” He said firmly as he gave a nod to the guardsman at the back door.
The door opened far behind me, but I didn’t have to turn to look, I knew the moment I heard his voice. “Well hey there kid…” A voice I hadn’t heard since since the Filandau state fell. For a Shal’dorei, he’d been hit with the ugly stick one too many times course considering what our former lord had done to him I don’t think many could have recovered from it the way he had. I stared at lord before me now as he was studying my every reaction, I gave him none.
“What, pretendin’ ya don’ know who I am? Ch’... whatever.” Jaques threw up his arms then crossed them as he leaned into the doorway of the door the guardsman still held open. “Look the guy’s got a good gig, pays better than tha’ shit ya been doin’ lately too. I wouldn’ have outed ya if I didn’ believe tha’. Last thing I need is ya huntin’ my ass next.” The sound of his voice still made my skin crawl.
The tycoon stared right at me with those eyes of his and in those moments I saw something other than arrogance. Whatever it was, this elf was driven by something other than wealth and greed. I didn’t know what it was, but it he had a steadfast determination in him that did peak my interest. It was only a glimmer of a moment but he let me see in that cool calm gaze of his far more than what any words would have told me. “I need you to be my champion, but what I need more is for you to make my statement for me loud and clear. Do not toy with them Mr. Stone. I need this fast, efficient, and very clear who champions for me now.” Whatever he was planning, he was banking everything on the scare tactics my lineage could provide. I didn’t know why yet… but if Jaques was here he knew all he needed to know about me and what I was capable of.
“If I agree, our contract will conclude the moment the rite is completed.”
“It will, if you so choose. I will waste no more of your time. Though I would ask only that you hear me out after and what I would like to further propose to you before you go.”
I was well aware that this could mean my death, but I was just as equally confident it would not be me who lost the dual as Lord Lumenstone was that I’d win. He wanted a statement made to strike fear in the court who sought to get in his way, that much was clear. What wasn’t clear was what they were trying to stop him from doing. I knew too little, only that Sivandris’s rise to
power had been exceptional enough to draw unwanted attention. But what on Azeroth could catch Jaques’s attention enough to bring him here? And just how desperate was this lord to want him?
“I accept.”
~~~~~~~~
The Sanctum of Order was well guarded, I’d been here before many times in my youth but I’d avoided its walls and towers for a time. I stood at the very top of the Sanctum fully armed and across from the champion that had been chosen across from me. I knew his face though I doubted they recognized me as I had mine covered beneath the mask I wore these days. I dealt with too many poison powders and had enough things flung in my face to teach me a viable lesson to protect my senses. It was only a plus that it also covered my face and gave me the advantage of not being easy to track. Each respected Lord sat above us on opposing sides, their champions below in the fighting arena. Spectators of the courts were there to witness and watch as well and from the amount of eyes that sought to watch this battle, I knew exactly why I was asked to be here. I knew these eyes, knew these faces. All of them had been entertained by Lord Filandau for years prior to his death and thus many of them knew well of my own lineage. But none had recognized me, not yet.
“I will wrestle your title from your Champion’s lifeless hands Sivandris!” The rival called out across the way, giving the signal for her champion to begin. Sivandris just sat there in his chair with his fingers steepled and a pleasant smile on his face as he watched, not giving them an inch to see a drop of fear or worry within him. Some thought it was arrogance, but it still was not at all the case, not with him.
The Shal’dorei’s champion was very well known for their ability to weave magic. Not many caught in their runes or arcane storms lived to tell about it. The moment he raised his hands and started to weave his runes as they lit up along the ground around him, I took hold of my two blades I’d dipped in poison earlier. I was told to make this fast, not to toy with them which I never did unless ordered. I never liked to toy with people, period. But I knew what he wanted exactly, and he had been willing to pay me a large enough sum to do it. So be it.
Channeling the arcane wards a fountain of arcane energy began spiraling up around him as blades of arcane were thrown at me as more showered around us. I ran straight into that font of power he was channeling and I could see it. I could see exactly where the energies were weakest as I activated the runes beneath my armor and gripped my blades tight. With a powerful blow I sliced at what looked to onlookers to be at nothing but the power. I didn’t slice at him. The moment the blades hit their mark his spell was broken, destroyed as arcane bouts fluttered out of existence like mere magic clouds dissipating.
It stunned him, frustrated him to be more exact so he began weaving a new spell as he activated his rune only to realize it had no effect on me. I was walking now, blades still gripped and watching his every move. He was banking on the reassurance his rune would stop me from closing the distance, it didn’t. He roared out in frustration and raised his own long blade high! I took the full brunt of the force of that magic blade as it hit my own and held it there above us. Our arms were both shaking and the moment my blade made contact with his the magic of his blade was snuffed out. Again he roared out in frustrated confusion before he even realized the other blade I had shanked him with. He instantly shoved back and staggered off me holding his wound. But in desperation he summoned his deadliest spell to his hands aimed right for me!
He was frozen in that position, eyes wide as he stared at me and the arcane within his body shimmering as every vein of his could be seen glowing through his starry skin. He trembled as if he realized in that moment what was happening as I stood there with both my blades in hand pointed towards him and decided to end it. The runes beneath my armor had spread tattoos along my body head to toe as they took on a dark black ink as if they’d always been there all along despite how the naked eye could not see them. With a twist of my wrists the blades followed the motion as I dealt him a final
blow. The blades did not pierce him nor cut him… they shattered him and every ounce of mana from his body.
He cried out as the magic shattered through his body and snuffed out, dropping him to the ground as he trembled and began to wither. In an instant he was reduced to the state of the Nightfallen cut off from the nourishment of the nightwell, but in his case the loss of the very essence all Nightborne needed to survive entirely shattered from his body had destroyed him. The courts watched as he withered and died before me, the same way a select few had seen before. It was the reason the Stoneblades were eradicated and why the house we served was so feared.
Sivandris Lumenstone had just risen above the rest in that moment as he slowly stood from his seat. There was silence, terror, fear as all looked on in horror at the Stoneblade who’d survived. I’d laid low for a thousand years… and more corruption than ever was seeping into our people’s way of life. He’d made a bold statement using me, yet I was not about to become the hound of another corrupt lord. I would hear him out after this. Thankfully, not all tycoons were made the same afterall.
@daily-writing-challenge
Dropping to one knee and pushing the door back till it was flat against the wall, he knew noone must have been hiding behind it. The room seemed empty except for the narrow bed with Ramiaell on it. Rami was curled into the tightest ball his body could manage. His hands were tied behind his back, tied ankles tucked up tight to his bare butt. His clothes were still bunched around his knees, and the expanse of pale flesh looked incredibly vulnerable. She’d meant to humiliate him by leaving him like this. The blindfold was still in place, his mouth was stained with drying blood, his lower lip already swollen, bruises beginning to spread across his face like ugly lipstick from an overzealous kiss.
Villiam tried to hurry, hearing Ramiaell make a pained sound through the gag in his mouth. He could tell he was trying so hard not to scream from fear, but he couldn’t hide the stain of tears in his eyes. Villiam drew one of his blades and fitted it carefully between his wrists, jerking upward. The cord sliced clean under the sharp, sharp blade. He tried to lift the blindfold off him but it was too tight. “I have to cut the blindfold off Ram, Don’t. Move.”
Ramiaell’s breathing slowed, he held still while his father slid the blade between the cloth and the side of his head. It was harder to cut than the rope because it was tighter to his skin and just a bad angle. But the blade finally sliced through it and the cloth fell away. He could see the impression of red marks in his skin where the blindfold had marked him. Ramiaell then flung himself on Villiam, hugging him. His father frowned, but grabbed his shoulder firmly and pushed him back, knife in one hand. “She won’t hurt you anymore, Ram. I promise that, but we’ve got to get out of here.” He stared down into his young son’s wide and shocky eyes before he blinked and gave a small nod. “I’m okay,” Rami said, which was the best lie his father had heard all night. But he accepted it and said, “Good.” Reaching for the ropes at his ankles he cut them as well. “Get dressed.”
By the time Ramiaell was dressed again, the raw terror had eased some in his eyes as he took his father’s hand to stand up. He almost fell because his ankles had been tied tight for too long and he was just getting feeling back. Villiam steadied him before they went for the door where Jaques was waiting, watching down the dark hallways as the lights were still flickering on and off. “Arm him.” Villiam ordered.
“What? Ya gotta be kiddin’ look at him he’ll shoot us.” Jaques argued.
“Do it.” Villiam ordered with a cold hard edge to his voice as he glared at the long greasy haired shal’dorei who looked nothing like either of them. “He’s skilled with the blade sling.”
“Ch’.” Jaques grumbled as he unwrapped his multi round magically propelled blade sling from his wrist and handed it to the young Stoneblade who had no idea what was going on. Only that his life depended on this.
“Put it on Ramiaell. If we go down, I want you armed, and take this.” It shocked Ramiaell but he knew not to question his father’s orders. Taking his father’s offered dagger in one hand and Jaques’s blade sling mounted on the other, he secured it as best he could on his smaller wrist as Jaques rolled his eyes and grabbed his long blade.
The hallway spilled out into a large open space, they moved slowly forward hugging the left-hand wall. It was the perfect place for an ambush but they seemed to be moving for the opening ahead with a stairwell leading up. The stairway was narrow and wound upward with a sharp angle at the top and a blind corner. Ramiaell kept watching behind them expecting someone to come at them from behind at any moment. When all three were stopped against the blind corner, he smelled it first. Thin rivulets of blood sliding down the steps towards them. Villiam kept Ramiaell there with him before nodding to Jaques to scout ahead. The lights flickering and glistening on blood and bodies down the whole hallway.
Jaques backed up after a few steps and muttered. “I see the exit.”
“What are the bodies?” Villiam
demanded.
“Filandau’s men.”
“What killed them?”
“I think it’s our murderous construct. But there is no other way out. The other entrance was blocked by an explosion.” Jaques explained kneeling by one of the bodies. There was more than just the people who took him for ransom they were dealing with, Ramiaell could at least piece that much together.
As Villiam and Ramiaell stepped out into the hall after him, Villiam gave the signal to move. It was slippery, the pools of blood and darker fluids were everywhere making them have to move slower and carefully. Eyes of the bodies were still blinking upward, alive but their lower chests, stomachs and abdomens were open, intestines trailing out along the floor. The third body made Ramiaell stop. Jaques and Villiam were already at the door with weapons drawn when they heard the first blade being fired. Villiam whirled, blade arm up and found Ramiaell standing over the woman’s body. They all knew what she’d done to him, they were forced to watch it before they came to rescue him.
Ramiaell emptied his blade sling till the final blade flung into the decapitated body, but he was still squeezing the trigger over and over and over. The magical propellant kept making puffs of air as Villiam called out to him. “Ramiaell. Ramiaell, she’s dead. You killed her. Ease down.” He ordered. Ramiaell didn’t seem to hear him. His father touched his shoulder, grabbing and lifting the arm that was still trying to fire. Ramiaell jerked away, violently, eyes wild. He kept dry-firing into the woman’s body. Villain shoved him back against the rock wall, hard, one arm across his throat, the other pinning his hands. Ramiaell’s eyes were wide with fear and anger from what she’d done to him. “Ramiaell, she’s dead. You can’t kill her anymore dead than she already is.”
His voice shook when he said, “It’s not enough.”
“No,” Villiam said, “it isn’t enough, but you killed her. That’s as good as revenge gets. Once you kill them, there isn’t any more.” He took the blade sling off his wrist then and he let him. There wasn’t any comfort offered to his son. The only comfort he got came from the weapon and his blades. There is some comfort in killing that which has hurt you, but it is cold comfort. It’ll destroy things inside of you that the original pain wouldn’t have harmed. Sometimes it’s not a question of whether a piece of your soul is going to go missing, only which piece it’s going to be.
