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jeriendhalOh, I've been waiting for Rolas to have this little chat, yes I have.
Countess Highglider’s servant met him at his skimmer when he parked it on the circular driveway in front of her manor. It was a remarkable building, one of the few original pre-Subjugation structures to survive through the interminable years of the Varn Dominion’s occupation of their world, used by an eccentric Varn overlord as their personal residence. It had also been the sight of that overlord’s last stand, the melted, glassy craters of plasma strikes on the granite walls, left by the vulpine soldiers who took it back, still visible today.
“May I help you, sir?” the servant asked.
“Lord Rolas Darktail, to see the Countess Highglider. I have an appointment.”
“This way, Lord Rolas.” The servant led him into the front hall, bidding him to sit on an overstuffed chair and wait. The high ceiling of the front hall felt oppressive to Rolas, making him imagine they were tilting towards him and about to collapse and crush him. The walls held paintings of various notable Highglider ancestors, including a prominent one of the lately incarcerated Lord Kev, with a fresh garland of flowers hanging from its frame. He fought the childish urge to walk over and tear the garland down. It would hardly be enough to express his contempt for the male and flowers had never done anything thing to hurt him.
The Countess kept him waiting for nearly an hour, which he probably shouldn’t have been surprised about. By the time the servant returned to escort him to her sitting room, Rolas was fighting the urge to ask him where the Necessary was. He did his best to put purely physical concerns aside though, when he was ushered in to face his family’s enemy.
“Lord Rolas Darktail, milady.”
“Thank you, Wilmed. You are dismissed.” Countess Evelina Highglider looked up at Rolas with an expression of cool contempt. “And what brings you here, Lord Rolas?” She was a bit older than Rolas’ own mother and father, in her late seventies, through modern medicine hid that rather well. Her pelt was almost as black as his family’s namesake tails, save for a bright splash of white at her throat. Rolas looked at it and tried not to bare his teeth.
“You don’t know? Surely you’ve spoken to your lapdog by now.”
“If you’re referring to the unfortunate Lt. Hotclaw, whom you removed so abruptly from his home, he did mention he had a rather unfortunate conversation with you.”
“I hope he finds friendlier accommodations under your roof.”
“Unlikely, as I have no further use for him. So what does bring you here, Lord Rolas?”
“I wanted to ask you why.”
“Why what?”
“Why are you maintaining this charade? Hotclaw said he brought the story of our planned oathbreaking to you. Why did you not simply declare us foresworn and strip us of our properties? Why go through the complication of having the Red Vixen attack our ship?”
“That’s a rather extreme charge, claiming a noble of the Council of Farm Lords is in league with a pirate.”
“I don’t believe Hotclaw was inclined to lie about it, given his situation when I questioned him.”
“So are you going to bring his testimony to the Council then?” She smiled thinly. “Or would you rather not have your own curious relationship with the Red Vixen brought to light?”
“How would you know…?” Rolas felt his jaw drop open. “You’re the one blocking our insurance from paying us?”
She nodded. “I may have some influence on the matter, yes.”
“Why? By the Holy Den Mother why are you doing this to us? If you want to punish my family for seeing the Goddess’ justice done on your worthless son, fine. You wish to bring ruination to the House Darktail? Fine. But why you dragging out things? Why not just end it?”
“End it? I’m not going to end it, Lord Rolas, I’m going to let go on for as long as I can.” She stood up, all traces of humor gone from her face as she stood close to him. “Do you know what you’ve done to my dear Kevie? Do you truly understand what sort of suffering he is going through?”
“Nowhere near enough, I should think,” Rolas replied.
“He is kept in a ward for the violently insane. He is not even allowed contact with his fellow “patients”, only those bloody commoner physicians. His only view of the outside world for the past three years has been through a window pane the length and width of my arm, in a room no bigger than three by five paces.” She growled softly. “When I am permitted, mind you I must ask permission to see him, I must sit in a booth with Kevie on the other side of a plate of armored glass and speak through a headset to him. I haven’t even been able to touch him for three years. All of this because your idiot sister could not be a proper mate to him!”
Rolas clasped his paws behind his back, claws digging into his pads, and drew in a long breath. “I’ll tell you what, my Countess. When your dear, maligned cubling does me the great favor of ripping half of his own face off, with one eye punctured and torn from its socket, I’ll be sure to put in a good word to his doctors for him.”
“You mock me, little lordling, but I am not done with you yet. Your family will not be permitted some easy escape. You will remain on Vulpine Prime and you will remain under my domain and you will suffer as my dear Kevie suffers. And if you try to leave I will expose your little affair with that pirate to the whole bloody Council and then we’ll see if you’re ever believed when you cry that you are mistreated by your leigelady.”
“Thank you for making your position on this matter clear, my Countess.” With an effort he unclasped his hands and gave her a polite bow, then turned to leave.
“Do not turn your back on me without permission, Lord Rolas!” she cried out.
He paused, still facing the door. “Feel free to devise a new punishment for my impropriety,” Rolas said. “Or you can just chew my wagging tail for all I care. Good day.” He walked out, not looking back
TBC
Countess Highglider’s servant met him at his skimmer when he parked it on the circular driveway in front of her manor. It was a remarkable building, one of the few original pre-Subjugation structures to survive through the interminable years of the Varn Dominion’s occupation of their world, used by an eccentric Varn overlord as their personal residence. It had also been the sight of that overlord’s last stand, the melted, glassy craters of plasma strikes on the granite walls, left by the vulpine soldiers who took it back, still visible today.
“May I help you, sir?” the servant asked.
“Lord Rolas Darktail, to see the Countess Highglider. I have an appointment.”
“This way, Lord Rolas.” The servant led him into the front hall, bidding him to sit on an overstuffed chair and wait. The high ceiling of the front hall felt oppressive to Rolas, making him imagine they were tilting towards him and about to collapse and crush him. The walls held paintings of various notable Highglider ancestors, including a prominent one of the lately incarcerated Lord Kev, with a fresh garland of flowers hanging from its frame. He fought the childish urge to walk over and tear the garland down. It would hardly be enough to express his contempt for the male and flowers had never done anything thing to hurt him.
The Countess kept him waiting for nearly an hour, which he probably shouldn’t have been surprised about. By the time the servant returned to escort him to her sitting room, Rolas was fighting the urge to ask him where the Necessary was. He did his best to put purely physical concerns aside though, when he was ushered in to face his family’s enemy.
“Lord Rolas Darktail, milady.”
“Thank you, Wilmed. You are dismissed.” Countess Evelina Highglider looked up at Rolas with an expression of cool contempt. “And what brings you here, Lord Rolas?” She was a bit older than Rolas’ own mother and father, in her late seventies, through modern medicine hid that rather well. Her pelt was almost as black as his family’s namesake tails, save for a bright splash of white at her throat. Rolas looked at it and tried not to bare his teeth.
“You don’t know? Surely you’ve spoken to your lapdog by now.”
“If you’re referring to the unfortunate Lt. Hotclaw, whom you removed so abruptly from his home, he did mention he had a rather unfortunate conversation with you.”
“I hope he finds friendlier accommodations under your roof.”
“Unlikely, as I have no further use for him. So what does bring you here, Lord Rolas?”
“I wanted to ask you why.”
“Why what?”
“Why are you maintaining this charade? Hotclaw said he brought the story of our planned oathbreaking to you. Why did you not simply declare us foresworn and strip us of our properties? Why go through the complication of having the Red Vixen attack our ship?”
“That’s a rather extreme charge, claiming a noble of the Council of Farm Lords is in league with a pirate.”
“I don’t believe Hotclaw was inclined to lie about it, given his situation when I questioned him.”
“So are you going to bring his testimony to the Council then?” She smiled thinly. “Or would you rather not have your own curious relationship with the Red Vixen brought to light?”
“How would you know…?” Rolas felt his jaw drop open. “You’re the one blocking our insurance from paying us?”
She nodded. “I may have some influence on the matter, yes.”
“Why? By the Holy Den Mother why are you doing this to us? If you want to punish my family for seeing the Goddess’ justice done on your worthless son, fine. You wish to bring ruination to the House Darktail? Fine. But why you dragging out things? Why not just end it?”
“End it? I’m not going to end it, Lord Rolas, I’m going to let go on for as long as I can.” She stood up, all traces of humor gone from her face as she stood close to him. “Do you know what you’ve done to my dear Kevie? Do you truly understand what sort of suffering he is going through?”
“Nowhere near enough, I should think,” Rolas replied.
“He is kept in a ward for the violently insane. He is not even allowed contact with his fellow “patients”, only those bloody commoner physicians. His only view of the outside world for the past three years has been through a window pane the length and width of my arm, in a room no bigger than three by five paces.” She growled softly. “When I am permitted, mind you I must ask permission to see him, I must sit in a booth with Kevie on the other side of a plate of armored glass and speak through a headset to him. I haven’t even been able to touch him for three years. All of this because your idiot sister could not be a proper mate to him!”
Rolas clasped his paws behind his back, claws digging into his pads, and drew in a long breath. “I’ll tell you what, my Countess. When your dear, maligned cubling does me the great favor of ripping half of his own face off, with one eye punctured and torn from its socket, I’ll be sure to put in a good word to his doctors for him.”
“You mock me, little lordling, but I am not done with you yet. Your family will not be permitted some easy escape. You will remain on Vulpine Prime and you will remain under my domain and you will suffer as my dear Kevie suffers. And if you try to leave I will expose your little affair with that pirate to the whole bloody Council and then we’ll see if you’re ever believed when you cry that you are mistreated by your leigelady.”
“Thank you for making your position on this matter clear, my Countess.” With an effort he unclasped his hands and gave her a polite bow, then turned to leave.
“Do not turn your back on me without permission, Lord Rolas!” she cried out.
He paused, still facing the door. “Feel free to devise a new punishment for my impropriety,” Rolas said. “Or you can just chew my wagging tail for all I care. Good day.” He walked out, not looking back
TBC
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no subject
Date: 2008-09-07 12:35 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-09-07 02:01 am (UTC)You had no way of knowing...
no subject
Date: 2008-09-07 08:25 am (UTC)Okay, shutting up with the jokes now.
no subject
Date: 2008-09-07 05:15 pm (UTC)