The Truth

Belladona | Genasi | Owner of Veil of Veins

[agnesisolda]

Agnes had been…. intermittent as of late; her sacrifices for Hekate under the ruse of the Dark had stopped the moment He had begun to relentlessly torture her for any good she had warranted upon this mortal coil. The Dark had eyes for all, but he had focused upon her, uncomfortably so, and as a result she had slipped away from those closest as though they would hear his whispers and know her fatal truth. Agnes was still comfortable with lying, however, and she smiled, offering a mild nod to Belladona's questioning, “Even those entirely removed from druid customs could hear what shudders and cries out beyond this border.” 

Agnes watched as Belladona seemed to analyze everything before her, turning from the border and back to the Sting with little time to waste. The brunette genasi held her own pause, before her eyes glanced upon Belladona once more, “I believe the border is weakening, or whatever hold the Aetherians have upon it, but I also have no evidence to support this claim. Just a hope that if we are to hit it in a certain point that it will crumble entirely.”

[truthfulbelladona]

“I would assume as much,” she admits with a sigh of aggravation. The entire thing had been loud to those who knew how to listen, and genasi they might be, but that only meant they had learned to listen carefully. Unlike the druids blinded by devotion, they see the world as it is, not as it could be, so any shift on it’s axis is more than felt. “It was a rather bothersome shift, I must admit. Woke me up from a rather pleasant dream.”

Pleasant for her, that is it, but not for anyone else. 

“Hit it?” She asks with a raised brow, and immediately thinks back at the faiman of a few days before in bemusement. “Why is it that people keep going for the more straightforward solution, when it has never worked before?” She muses aloud, not expecting an answer as she turns to the barrier and waves a hand as if to encompass the whole thing with a gesture. “Weakened it might be, but I doubt something as small as a precise hit with a rock or a spell would do anything. If anything, great power would be needed to finish breaking it, even weakened.”

[raventeresi]

The barrier that separate Iskaldrik from Lysara flickered as if growing weak as it held fast for so long. Raven had seen signs in her fitful dreams that drew her to witness the invisible barrier that separated the land that she born to and that where she currently stood. She had a complex relationship with her homeland, it was a place that hated her in return, would rather see her dead than to live because of the arcane that was born in her veins and yet it was where she had seen her parents last, the long smothered ember of hope threatened to rekindle that they had escaped the mines and she could find them somehow.

Having tasted life as a prisoner on the dreadnaught and when despair had her most upon the ship, she had believed them dead but she had escaped the dreadnaught and couldn't help the paralyzing feeling of that maybe, just maybe they were too.

She didn't stand alone analyzing the barrier, normally she shied from others but the barrier falling had her in such a chokehold that she didn't care about anything but what separated the land that might bring her home.

"Sometimes the obvious answer lies naked to the eyes when surrounded with such cryptic mysteries." grabbing a nearby stone, she skipped it into the barrier to watch how it would react.

[truthfulbelladona]

Reluctantly, she looks away from the barrier, her eyes falling in a familiar slip of a thing. Instantly, a headache begins to build on the back of her head as she wonders if the woman recognizes her. She had been fairly in the open back in the Dreadnaught, after all, so it wouldn’t be a surprise that the faiman would recognize her instantly. It’s just a tad annoying, she must admit. She had gone out of her way so far to avoid all of the pesky survivors, only to run into one entirely by accident in the middle of nowhere.

Joy. 

Sighing to herself more than anything, she kept her expression placid yet friendly as she turned to look at the woman with a raised brow. A brow that only went higher and higher in her forehead as she watched the tomfoolery that she had planned. 

There is no need to say anything as the rock is thrown in an arc and hits the barrier, giving off the usual chain reaction. Still, she lets out a huff of amusement and shakes her head. 

“I don’t think the barrier has weakened quite enough for that just yet,” she says dryly, but still offers what could easily pass for a smile of encouragement. “Still, that was a good first attempt.”

[ladiesofcinema]

Kate Siegel as Camille L’Espanaye THE FALL OF THE HOUSE OF USHER (2023) 1x01: A Midnight Dreary

[agnesisolda]

“I wondered when you would arrive,” Agnes would not say her mind wandered to Belladona as of recent times; the Dark One had purposefully made her life grueling and she knew Belladona was in their pocket more than Agnes ever was. She wouldn't say it made her uncomfortable to sit amongst those complicit with the Dark, there was more nuance than that, but she had once been fond of Belladona and knew their relationship would be fractured completely if the other was to know of these instances where the Dark tortured her and turned against her. 

“Unfortunately, I believe there must be some teamwork involved with solving this,” her lips curled into a small smile, for she knew there was likely nothing the other loathed more than having to sit in a circle with other druids or genasi. Even just the two of them would amount to little leeway in cracking this code, but Agnes had still returned nightly in spite of this as though something would inevitably nudge loose for her.

[truthfulbelladona]

“And talking about cryptids,” Belladona muses as she turns to Agnes with a pleased smile. Their work had led them in different directions over the past few months, but it is always a delight to meet another of her fellow genasi. To be chosen by the Dark One is an honor, and it is frankly delightful to see someone as enterprising as Agnes falling upon the role so very nicely. “Delightful to see that sweet face of yours, Agnes. Did you feel the disturbance in the borders as well? Or is your presence here due to another reason?”

A moment is taken to take in her words, and she nods in agreement. 

“I suppose you are right,” she admits with a sigh, glancing up at the barrier and back at the genasi. At the very least, it would be cooperation with someone whose goals aligned with hers. “Do you have any ideas on how to proceed?” 

[babylon38ad2]

Kate Gordon Siegelbaum

[truthfulbelladona]

who? Open where? The border between Iskaldrik and Haven

If she were to be fully honest— and Belladona so rarely is —, she would admit that she could care less than a rat ass’ if the barrier separating Lysara and the Aetherians fell. Frankly, if she continued being honest, she would admit that the barrier falling would be nothing but beneficial to her. The chaos that would come from a full frontal invasion from the mages would be akin to a revelry, the sound of the violence and despair that would follow music to her ears. So, if she cares so very little about the barriers integrity, why is she standing before it, head tilted in consideration?

To see if she can break it, of course. 

Anything to hurry the world’s end along. The sooner it happened, the faster Fate lost. 

“How odd,” she mutters, head tilting even further back as she narrows her eyes. There was something different about the barrier, but she couldn’t put a finger to it.  “Of course trying to check after cryptid feelings will lead to cryptid answers.”

[liriennoctis]

Lirien casually scoops up the paper and his drink in a fluid motion, taking a sip only to slip the paper up the cuff of his sleeve before setting his glass back down. "On the contrary, I half expected you to come back wrong." The casualty of his tone was almost cool but the quirk at the corners of his mouth gives away his amusement at the idea. Belladonna coming back wrong would look like her heart growing several sizes.

[truthfulbelladona]

A sharp laugh escapes her, halfway through a cackle and just genuine enough to be a bit unsettling. Belladona truly enjoyed the young dhampirs company. His bard training suited him well, and there was never a boring conversation between the two. That she appreciated. There are so many bores hanging around nowadays. 

“That would have been quite the sight,” she admits with another snort. “But highly unlikely. This is me coming back wrong, and I have never been so right.”

[moonlight-womanpower]

A beautiful woman: Actress Kate Siegel known for her roles in horror movies like The Haunting of Hill House and The Haunting of Bly Manor.

[keirmorozov]

Belladona's jest about life beyond work rang hollow in his ears, but he didn't challenge her on it. Keir recognised obsession all too well. They were both bound to their causes, whether they admitted it or not.

The strigoi leaned back in his chair, letting the din of the club swirl around him. His indulgent mask was only ever that: a mask. The weight of Valerius' name, albeit unspoken, settled heavy in his chest. Panic bred chaos, and chaos gave fertile ground for dissent. He'd already heard whispers spreading through the courts, the merchants' halls, the slums: if one such as Valerius Noctis could escape, what else would the Tower fail to contain?

Keir let none of that turmoil reach his expression. Instead, his gaze slid back to her. "Did I? No. One man's freedom, however deserved, can unravel a dozen accords. Every ruling family, every Magistrate, every whore with ambition will question Lysara's security now. A realm runs on perception, not truth."

[truthfulbelladona]

“If peace is fragile enough that one truth can destroy, if the strength of Lysara can be weakened with a crack on its facade… Is it truly peace? Is it truly strong?” She asks, voice curious as she continues taking sips from her drink in deliberate disinterest. Their perception differs in this matter, she is aware, but it is still a conversation worth having, if only to see if she can find another chink on his armor. 

There is no denying the power of perception, not when a handful of well dressed and sharp-looking soldiers can defeat a battalion, not when a pair of gentlemen drinking tea at the city gates can dissuade an army from invading. She, herself, relies on perception to change the game, to weigh the board in her favor. It is a crucial tool, but it cannot be everything a country relies on if it wants to survive any true struggle. 

If this is all it takes for Lysara to fall, then her work will be far easier than she assumed back when she first became a genasi. 

[just-call-me-root-bitch]

Kate Siegel as Camille L’Espanaye

x

[einolegion]

Eino had poured himself completely into the fight at the border, no longer did he return to Caer Glas; he knew avoidance of his own dreams, of his own bed, was a certain type of madness, for no sense of avoidance could completely absolve him from such darkness visiting his dreams. As much as Eino knows better, the cambion still situates himself in some sanctioned campground just for himself; he hadn't planned to slumber but it's a rather quiet night and suddenly the blademaster finds himself drifting, even if he's entirely unaware of it initially.

The transition is quick, fading into something that poses as a strong reality; the finishing touch is how he seemed to jolt awake and darkness still surrounds him. Eino can sense something is amiss, though at first the cruel stretch of silence is the only thing which greets him, until an explosion of cacophonous sounds, snarls of darkspawn and the screams of innocents bleeds out into the dark night.

Eino had never run from a battle and thus, longsword in hand, he was soon breaking through the clumps of trees and yet they seemed to fight back. Thorny branches, those with twigs and leaves that somehow hooked into him like nails, clawing to keep him from joining his comrades. His fear had never been the battlefield, never been the darkness, it had always been his inability to save his own. Legionnaires, warriors; his name is pulled into a scream that is switched to a gurgling gasp as though one was choking on their blood. Each time his blade swung through this forest, seemingly, suddenly, alive, more branches reached out to keep him still, keep him stuck forever, helpless.

Eino slowed, the screams, perfectly out of view did not cease, and each sounded similar to another of the Legion - Nurcan, Isak, even Riandur - he had to presume now his mind was playing tricks on him, but still the trees coiled tighter around him now as he stilled momentarily, the rage in his eyes prevalent.

[truthfulbelladona]

If she had any less self-control, Belladona would be clapping in delight at the sheer emotion exuding from her chosen prey. The taste of fear and rage permeated the air, and the tarmac of her tongue and she could not help the shiver of delight that ran down her spine as the poor unfortunate soul created the perfect stage for a game. For a moment of wild abandon, knowing that he could not see her trapped in his dream as he was, Belladona’s lips split into a jagged smile. The Kossith had taken her most prized possession: they had taken her control away, so getting it back was exhilarating. She is drunk on power, and yet that same power remains firmly on her grip as she carefully gathers herself. Delighted she might be, but she still needs to play her role of savior. 

Eyes closing, she runs her tongue over her lips to savor the rage in the dream one last time before she brings forth the mask she had chosen to wear within dreams. The brightness of glee found on her eyes dims, turning into a realistic facsimile to worry as her expression smooths out into grim determination, and Belladona steps into the dream. 

It is dark within, a sweet and overpowering darkness that she hates to disrupt, but does nonetheless. Softly, steadily, the lamp hairpin on her hair illuminates her surroundings like a halo as she makes her way to the dreamer, the forest parting before her. She makes sure that it does not part too easily, letting branches and thorns snag on her clothes and hair, one even leaving a thin bloody scratch on her cheek as she finally makes her way through to the dreamer. 

“There you are, I have been looking for you,” she says, concern coating her words as shining as fake gold. “Your dreams have been touched by something dark, we must hurry and get you out of here.”

[marcusxlivius]

Who: Open Where: Dragon Draught

Livius couldn't help himself when he saw another inquire about a hundred-year-old whisky only for the bottle to be put back on the shelf as it was out of the others' price range. But it wasn't out of the daemonfey's, though it wasn't like he even liked whisky; he wanted it solely because the other did. And it wasn't that he just bought a tumbler of it, no, he bought the whole bottle. But like everything that came into Livius' possession, it lost value in his eyes. He poured a generous amount of the amber liquid into a glass for himself, not giving it its due worth and downed the liquid. He poured a second glass for himself, then another for the other whom he had spotted watching him. "Apparently something like this should be enjoyed in company.” Aslong as the man who wanted it originally didn’t get any Livius would be satisfied with that.

[truthfulbelladona]

Scouting out the competition is a must, especially since she took an unexpected hiatus. As such, Belladona had begun taking days off at random days a week to scope out how other bars in Eterna were doing. In times of conflict, people tended to want to drink their sorrows away, so seeing if the clientele of the most well known bars had changed served a dual purpose. It both allowed her to keep a finger on the pulse of the city, and perhaps even figure out if there was any weak prey she should send a devil’s way. This time, however, her attention is diverted by a familiar presence amidst the crowds, and Belladona watches in amusement as Livius covets and Livius gets. 

“Oh, I am sure you got this for the company,” she says with a snicker as she takes the glass and takes a sip. “I appreciate you sharing, this is a good one.”

[theonxepialos]

If Theon could prevent any further trouble from striking those he cared about, he'd do his very best to keep on such silent promise. Theon had failed Dior, failed Napoleon by extension, and though the incubus could continue with such fragile sense of bravado, indeed, such fact was haunting him. "The Queen was lacking any help when it came to what the Kossith had done and planned to do," capturing everyone, attempting to raid Haven, the list went on and even Theon had been left with some sense of surprise there. "She thought the Astorian border needed the help all the more."

This was often how it went with Theon and Belladona, glib exchanges of information tossed out casually despite them being, sometimes, monumental. Still, he sighed as the dream genasi clearly had nothing to give currently when it came to information he was interested in, "Let's go and get you back to your evil lair then." Theon had turned on his heel though he paused until he heard the familiar crunch of footsteps fall into step behind him.

[truthfulbelladona]

“She is likely hoping she made the right choice, then,” Belladona says thoughtfully. Beneath her exhaustion, and grimmy skin, her mind begins working as she considers the variables. Plenty of important people were captured by the Kossith, and plenty were tremendously well liked. If she plays her cards right, she is sure she can begin sowing discontent against the Queen amidst the commoners. It might not amount to much in the short term, but it will begin crumbling the confidence in the monarchy, and a little bit of chaos often went a long way. 

“My thanks, my skin is entirely too fair for such harsh conditions,” she jests as she moves to follow Theon, all too eager to get away from the sun and into a long bath. Indulgence awaited her, and after months of dirt and pain, she could not wait to down an entire bottle of wine.

[liriennoctis]

He watches from behind the rim of his glass, relatively amused at the whole idea. Big man with power comes through Haven and gets decimated, it would seem that just kept happening. Such was the hubris of men in general, he figured, people kept seeming to underestimate the inhabitants of the Wildlands. "No, I imagine the cycle will continue, but maybe they'll be smart enough to realize coming from the North isn't a safe option." Maybe, if they were really lucky, the Kossith would just go right for the Tower. But that was a petty thought. "You seem your usual self."

[truthfulbelladona]

“They seem to be entirely too obsessed with darkspawns, alas,” she laments, tapping the back of her pen against the wad of paper as she considers the names written primly on it. Carefully, she tallies them out, ensuring that there is not a single one missing, and once she is sure the list is done, she tears it out and pushes it towards Lirien for his perusal. “Perhaps if the issue in the Astoria border gets worse they will change their sights, but that seems like a relatively long shot.”

Capping her pen, she meets Lirien’s eyes and raises a brow. 

“What? Did you expect to find pieces of me, rather than the whole? The experience was daunting, but letting it break me is beneath me.”

[keirmorozov]

After Keir's performance, a hush blanketed the club. The manager wouldn't dare deny the Maestro his little indulgence, but it took a few stiff drinks to stir the guests from their stunned silence. "You do indeed," he hummed, candlelight passing through his liquor like stained glass.

Keir was a regular at Belladona's undead speakeasy. While his refusal to feed directly from the source baffled some, Keir had followed the self-imposed rule for almost a century. Among strigoi, it was seen as a quaint eccentricity, but for him, it was a matter of discipline. He had no interest in reducing others to livestock, nor did he desire the tether that came with forging a thrall. Control was the cornerstone of his existence, and they were liabilities at best.

"Good on you for taking a night off." His brow arched, the rim of his drink brushing his lower lip as he watched her over its edge. The sarcasm in his voice was unmistakable. Keir was certain Belladona never truly rested. "I suppose congratulations are in order," he murmured after a beat, setting his glass down with a soft clink. "Tell me—did you toast his escape?"

[truthfulbelladona]

“Life does not revolve around work, does it?” Belladona teases him, knowing that neither of them believe her words nor the sentiment they espouse. She does not allow many to truly know her, but even a peripheral acquaintance with her character demonstrates altogether too easily that her work dictates her actions more often than not. Any deeper prying would demonstrate that her life is consumed by her work, but that is a level of knowledge of her person that she has not allowed many to be aware of. 

Keir, as pleasurable of a company that he is, is not among the few that are aware how truly and deeply workaholic she can be. So she plays the game, pretends she is not nearly as addicted to her work as she is, and shrugs playfully as she drinks more of her wine. 

“He had been imprisoned for far too long, forced to live a life beneath him,” Belladona says, primly and vaguely. She is aware of whom he is referring, but the walls have ears, and this is not her establishment. “Did you?”

[truthfulbelladona]

who? @einolegion where? Dream Realm Physical Location: Near the border with Astoria

Rarely does Belladona venture outside the borders of Eterna for no reason. This time, whoever, she must admit that her reasoning leans towards spite rather than logic. She has no plans, no intentions, other than to enjoy the chaos that has enveloped Southreach. Watching the place where she was born and grew up fall prey to the darkspawn and the Dark is a treat she cannot allow to pass by. The Kossith had taken control from her, and seeing Southreach’s plight will help as a reminder as to why she will never allow such a thing to happen once more. 

Her trip into the Dream Realm was another moment of pure whimsy, rather than the hard logic she had allowed to dictate her life since she had sold her soul to the Dark One. Once there, she was distracted by one particular flame. It didn’t flicker, standing strong against the Dark, despite the soft glow of corruption it carried. An odd quality, and one she immediately desired to test. 

It is a matter of minutes for her to weave a Nightmare, weaving a pattern meant to snare and encourage her prey to lose all sense within it. Add a bit of Darkness to it, and it creates the perfect setting for her to swoop in and rescue a poor unfortunate soul. All she needs to do now is lean back and relax until it is her moment to join the little play she had set up for her own enjoyment.

[keirmorozov]

who: @truthfulbelladona when: current where: eterna

His concerto unfurled through the velvet-draped bar, gripping the audience in breathless captivity. Their tears spilled freely, vanishing into half-drunk flutes of blood and champagne. Candlelight licked the sharp line of Keir's jaw as each note carved deeper and deeper, digging into wounds they didn’t know they carried. As the crescendo surged, his fury spilled into the ivory keys. The final chord slammed through the hall and with a sigh, Keir's shoulders dropped. The audience remained frozen, utterly undone by the Maestro’s requiem.

"I need a drink," he muttered, rising from his seat without ceremony. A glass already waited—a deep pour of something expensive, older than half the patrons here. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a familiar silhouette. Keir turned, aged spirit in hand. "Scoping out the competition, Belladona?" he asked, voice dripping in amusement.

[truthfulbelladona]

While many would, and do, assume that the owner of Veil’s of Vein rarely leaves her domain, the truth is far from assumption. Belladona has her own network of gossip she follows, her finger in the pulse of Eterna’s nightlife as she uncovers secrets to trade and use for the benefit of her liege. Her appearance on this particular bar is for one such reason, but she has to admit that she struck gold by arriving when she did. Good entertainment is always hard to come by, after all. 

“I have my corner in the market, Keir,” she drawls, bringing her wine to her lips and taking a sip. “No need to scope competition, when all who need my services know where to find them.” She reminds her with a sharp smirk as she settles her glass on the bar. “I am here for pleasure, and I just happened to be lucky enough to catch your performance.”