Élise
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Posts: 46
Moral Alignment: Pure Hearted
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Post by Élise on Feb 6, 2015 19:30:52 GMT -5
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Post by Deleted on Feb 6, 2015 19:31:39 GMT -5
It came as a surprise to Fabre that such a cold man was incapable of keeping the chill of a small flake on the tip of his finger long enough to see it. She figured he just wasn’t looking hard enough. Or maybe, it was impossible for him.
She smiled at him and batted her long sweeping eyelashes as she noticed his eyes upon her. Forget snowflakes. Fabre still needed to keep up her cover for a home. She needn’t get carried away with pointless chatter for much longer. Not because she didn’t find it fascinating, but rather because she feared revealing too much of her nature and intentions to such a shady man.
She followed his gaze to the looming peaks overhead. The desolation’s core. Looking at the castle was the worst part of visiting Fordeth. It was symbolic of her sufferings, as was the golden circlet of an Arborous. She hated it. No.
She loathed the castle and its keeper. Fabre believed the stories. She knew in her deepest soul that Julgrava must exist. He must. Her father had told her much of the legends and it was all she had to hold on to – save for art- in his teachings.
Of course, she kept a careful tongue as she spoke, a playful smile lightly placed on her face. “I’ve never met the king. Have you?” She asked with a grin. Had anyone, “As for the castle, not my choice of décor, but I can see how it ties in with the surrounding environment.” You know, the ruins, poverty, and pathetic people. She swept the grin off of her lips with the back of her hand and resisted spitting in disgust on the ground. Looking at the castle for too long turned her stomach in a sickening way.
Fabre Hulin 18/25
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Post by Deleted on Apr 26, 2015 18:57:55 GMT -5
"Never met him, myself," he said. "I'm not sure anyone has, even my boss or my boss's boss." He shrugged. "Actually seeing him is a difficult proposition, anyway... Some say he walks covered in some strange shroud, escaping vision. Others say he doesn't exist. Me, I'm not sure where he is, and I'm not sure if it matters." He breathed sharply in. Well, that was an unusual admission, and one he hadn't planned on saying. He would have to excuse that. "The castle is his body, and we are his arms. What more does he need?"
They walked closer and closer to the enormous, looming castle, its desolate architecture a fist of iron puncturing the belly of the city. The wind died down as they got nearer, an eerie sense of still about the place. "He needs nothing more," he said, "nothingness, which comes from nothing. No magic, no books. A bare life." He almost twisted a frown. "I don't resent it..." His voice sounded more like he was convincing himself than her. "What have we done to... deserve otherwise?" He shook his head, almost as if snapping out of the other train of thought. "These ruins, this poverty. It's the result of what happened before Julgrava, Fabre. He prevented total destruction, but there must be this slow period before we can truly rebuild..." He had convinced himself of the lie, in his mind, having come so close to otherwise.
His house was just to the side. "Please, go in," he said, "There is no need to be out on the street any longer. Inside is warm. I've got tea if you need it. And better coffee than that crap."
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