Whispers in Rio 4:
Lux Splendour, 5001
Palace of the Governor of Goncalo
Goncalo, Rio de Janeiro,
Holy Terra
“I feel like a fool, Jefe.” Muttered McTavish as he looked himself over, a worried hand picking at the seam of his doublet. The foyer was sumptuously appointed with mirrors to allow those arriving a chance to freshen up before proceeding further in to the palace. Gloved hands moved to resettle the white wig that concealed his darker, native hair.
“If you are as a fool in such simple cloth, amigo…” Murmured Juan Diego in return… “Then do naught but look at those around you and realize that to be a fool in the court of Jesters is no shame.” He straightened his silken cravat, laying its ruffles smoothly against his chest before once again checking the release of his blade in its scabbard.
“At least you match in your color choices, unlike…” he let his voice trail off, gesturing with chin and eyes to Selena Decados, Principis for the House of the Mantis and her gaily attired entourage of brightly costumed groomsmen. To assist in the Hazat’s metaphor, the good Decados had been kind enough to choose a theme that closely resembled Harlequins and Jesters for her group, complete with pointy hats and ill conceived shoes.
Her own gown and headdress were best described as a melee of hue, with purple and green fighting for dominance over blue and red, a mismatch of swatch and trim that still managed to look purposeful and not accidental, all in an outfit that had far too much cloth where there ought to be less and far too little cloth where there ought be more. Where skin was shown (And it was a considerable amount), it was painted in swirls of black and iridescent green glitter that sparkled in the light and caught the eye, drawing gaze to the line of her curves in such a fashion as to make gawking all but a foregone conclusion.
McTavish’s gaze fell to the graces, such as they were, of the Decados woman, lingering to follow the swirl and form of her display. His eyes came up over her prominently showcased bosom in time to meet her gaze, an icy thing that betrayed amusement and contempt. A smile traced across her lips for a half moment before disappearing under her mask of vexation and pique.
It was in that moment that McTavish realized he was in quite in trouble. “My lord, we should be to the buffet line now, no?” He asked insistently, drawing the attention of Juan Diego.
For his part, Juan looked curiously to McTavish… “But I am not hungry, Amigo, are you?” Turned to his friend as such to address him, he did not see the approaching storm of Decados fools and the queen that led them.
“Oh yes…” Came the retort from Selena, drawing up short. “Hungry indeed! I assume this thing belongs to you?” Her snappish whip of a voice cracked in the air, drawing silence and attention from those who were near. She played to the crowd, clearly not addressing Juan Diego so much as using him as a prop in her own little passion play. “Your little dog dared to stare upon me in a lecherous fashion unbecoming a lady of my station. I would have you beat him.”
Narrowing his eyes, Juan studied the situation before him as Mctavish stepped closer, doff’ing his cap in a show of humility. “My lord… You should do as she says. She is Principis Mantis and rules the entirety of the Roxo district, as right hand to the Imperitor himself… Make no enemy of her if you value your security…” His words were low, not carrying beyond Juan’s ears.
Nodding slowly to McTavish, Juan stepped forward, his posture not one of a man about to deliver apology or beat his groomsman. “I tell you that I am Juan Diego Raoul Castenda of the Hazat. In the Hazat, we do not beat our men, for while dogs they may be, we expect our hounds to show teeth before belly. You, appear to have reversed the order.” His words rose in pitch, to highlight the last sentence, carrying it to the crowd as well, realizing the nature of the game being played.
A murmur ran through the crowd as the unknown Hazat challenged, perhaps insulted, the Principis of the Decados, an almost unheard of action for one so recent to Rio. Several chuckles or tittering giggles could be heard fro the crowd, signaling a shift in the Decados woman’s posture.
She narrowed her eyes, gesturing for one of her jesters to move forward, a cudgel coming from under his tunic. The jester in his painted face, exaggerated features, did not approach Juan directly, but instead attempted to move after McTavish, though making no swift journey about it. “If you will not discipline your hound I shall have to do it for you, Hazat of Castenda, for I have been insulted and I will see satisfaction.”
Juan now drew his blade in a smooth fashion that rang in the room with startling clarity. Impolite though it might have been to unsheathe steel in a social setting for any other people, the Hazat often considered a party with no duel to be rather unremarkable. “Jester, if you step one mote closer to my man, I will ensure the smile you wear now will be all the more wider come three beats hence.” The words were hissed, an anger rising behind his tongue that quailed the Decados minion, causing him to look back to the Principis.
Before she could react however, the blade sheathed itself again as Juan spoke louder, addressing the crowd… “And if it is satisfaction my lady of the Decados seeks, then she has come to the right man, for I am well prepared in all situations to render such things to a lady of style, grace and beauty! Come, Principis, Let us put aside petty insults, for we are better born than such trivialities. You do not beat my man, I do not mark your boy and we shall share the next dance to show our good faith” With that, Juan stepped boldly forward, offering an arm to the lady, presumptive as to her acceptance.
“Well played, Jefe” murmured McTavish, a heart beat later.
Now on the defensive in the engagement and somewhat off guard, Selena, Governor of Roxo District and Principis, nodded her head in agreement. “So shall it be, Lord Hazat. Let us hope your feet are as quick as your wit, least you bruise my feet as well as my pride.”
Palace of the Governor of Goncalo
Goncalo, Rio de Janeiro,
Holy Terra
“I feel like a fool, Jefe.” Muttered McTavish as he looked himself over, a worried hand picking at the seam of his doublet. The foyer was sumptuously appointed with mirrors to allow those arriving a chance to freshen up before proceeding further in to the palace. Gloved hands moved to resettle the white wig that concealed his darker, native hair.
“If you are as a fool in such simple cloth, amigo…” Murmured Juan Diego in return… “Then do naught but look at those around you and realize that to be a fool in the court of Jesters is no shame.” He straightened his silken cravat, laying its ruffles smoothly against his chest before once again checking the release of his blade in its scabbard.
“At least you match in your color choices, unlike…” he let his voice trail off, gesturing with chin and eyes to Selena Decados, Principis for the House of the Mantis and her gaily attired entourage of brightly costumed groomsmen. To assist in the Hazat’s metaphor, the good Decados had been kind enough to choose a theme that closely resembled Harlequins and Jesters for her group, complete with pointy hats and ill conceived shoes.
Her own gown and headdress were best described as a melee of hue, with purple and green fighting for dominance over blue and red, a mismatch of swatch and trim that still managed to look purposeful and not accidental, all in an outfit that had far too much cloth where there ought to be less and far too little cloth where there ought be more. Where skin was shown (And it was a considerable amount), it was painted in swirls of black and iridescent green glitter that sparkled in the light and caught the eye, drawing gaze to the line of her curves in such a fashion as to make gawking all but a foregone conclusion.
McTavish’s gaze fell to the graces, such as they were, of the Decados woman, lingering to follow the swirl and form of her display. His eyes came up over her prominently showcased bosom in time to meet her gaze, an icy thing that betrayed amusement and contempt. A smile traced across her lips for a half moment before disappearing under her mask of vexation and pique.
It was in that moment that McTavish realized he was in quite in trouble. “My lord, we should be to the buffet line now, no?” He asked insistently, drawing the attention of Juan Diego.
For his part, Juan looked curiously to McTavish… “But I am not hungry, Amigo, are you?” Turned to his friend as such to address him, he did not see the approaching storm of Decados fools and the queen that led them.
“Oh yes…” Came the retort from Selena, drawing up short. “Hungry indeed! I assume this thing belongs to you?” Her snappish whip of a voice cracked in the air, drawing silence and attention from those who were near. She played to the crowd, clearly not addressing Juan Diego so much as using him as a prop in her own little passion play. “Your little dog dared to stare upon me in a lecherous fashion unbecoming a lady of my station. I would have you beat him.”
Narrowing his eyes, Juan studied the situation before him as Mctavish stepped closer, doff’ing his cap in a show of humility. “My lord… You should do as she says. She is Principis Mantis and rules the entirety of the Roxo district, as right hand to the Imperitor himself… Make no enemy of her if you value your security…” His words were low, not carrying beyond Juan’s ears.
Nodding slowly to McTavish, Juan stepped forward, his posture not one of a man about to deliver apology or beat his groomsman. “I tell you that I am Juan Diego Raoul Castenda of the Hazat. In the Hazat, we do not beat our men, for while dogs they may be, we expect our hounds to show teeth before belly. You, appear to have reversed the order.” His words rose in pitch, to highlight the last sentence, carrying it to the crowd as well, realizing the nature of the game being played.
A murmur ran through the crowd as the unknown Hazat challenged, perhaps insulted, the Principis of the Decados, an almost unheard of action for one so recent to Rio. Several chuckles or tittering giggles could be heard fro the crowd, signaling a shift in the Decados woman’s posture.
She narrowed her eyes, gesturing for one of her jesters to move forward, a cudgel coming from under his tunic. The jester in his painted face, exaggerated features, did not approach Juan directly, but instead attempted to move after McTavish, though making no swift journey about it. “If you will not discipline your hound I shall have to do it for you, Hazat of Castenda, for I have been insulted and I will see satisfaction.”
Juan now drew his blade in a smooth fashion that rang in the room with startling clarity. Impolite though it might have been to unsheathe steel in a social setting for any other people, the Hazat often considered a party with no duel to be rather unremarkable. “Jester, if you step one mote closer to my man, I will ensure the smile you wear now will be all the more wider come three beats hence.” The words were hissed, an anger rising behind his tongue that quailed the Decados minion, causing him to look back to the Principis.
Before she could react however, the blade sheathed itself again as Juan spoke louder, addressing the crowd… “And if it is satisfaction my lady of the Decados seeks, then she has come to the right man, for I am well prepared in all situations to render such things to a lady of style, grace and beauty! Come, Principis, Let us put aside petty insults, for we are better born than such trivialities. You do not beat my man, I do not mark your boy and we shall share the next dance to show our good faith” With that, Juan stepped boldly forward, offering an arm to the lady, presumptive as to her acceptance.
“Well played, Jefe” murmured McTavish, a heart beat later.
Now on the defensive in the engagement and somewhat off guard, Selena, Governor of Roxo District and Principis, nodded her head in agreement. “So shall it be, Lord Hazat. Let us hope your feet are as quick as your wit, least you bruise my feet as well as my pride.”