Meeting with Iriel'sa (10/22)

[18:38:16]
The Regent slinks off a bit to the north. A little squat and humble house beside the docks. She slips right in, turning a key in the latch, before shutting and locking it behind them.

"Make yourselves comfortable," she mutters, ensuring they take a seat at the table before opting for one of her own.

"I hope you've been well, Iriel'sa." The greeting is stiff, if well-intentioned.
(Dura Levante)
[18:40:49]
Johan takes a seat and gives a little sigh, politics was at it's core incredibly boring but it had to happen. It had driven his father bear into bouts of boredom too, he supposed that was where his intolerance came from.

"I don't think I've ever been in here, the kitchen looks nice though I question the anvil." a little chuckle escaped the young lordling, got 'em.

Finally a thought a smile is given, he hardly saw his elder sister. "It's good to see you Iriel'sa." he wondered what this meeting in particular was, if it related to the hushed whispers they just shared.
(Johan Pavlova)
[18:41:33]
Iriel'sa sits in the closest chair. Four wings fold atop each other behind her in a compact position, a smile never leaving Dura's face. Stiffness is met with the ever-present happy optimism of Fort Urosil's Seer.

"It was a wonderful trip. Arlandria is so beautiful, Dura. Yggdrasil's such a landmark that it's almost disappointing that we have to send it back, you know?"

Johan's greeting gets a wider smile. Iriel'sa leans forward to ruffle the bearkin's hair, giggling softly. "It's good to see you again. Now then. Dura!"

"Set the stage, if you would?"
(Iriel'sa Enathrae)
[18:44:54]
"It was the previous Regent's. I've made it my own. My old place is with others of Providence who needed it more."

The Regent has no smile. She has no outward mirth or joy or optimism. Dura is as she has so often been in the past few years:

An implacable jade obelisk. Worn and chipped by time and battles, but still standing as if out of sheer spite to the whole of reality's whims.

"I'm glad you enjoyed it. Maybe I can see it myself some day. I do like to travel." And that seems earnest enough, if still stiff.

"However. There is the matter of your wife going off the rails." Ah.

She opts for the direct approach.
(Dura Levante)
[18:47:53]
Johan's head tilts to the side as bear ears flop, that came out of left field, he hadn't even met his sisters wife.

He double takes and then scratches one of those same ears, Johan was hear to listen mostly and not butt in.

"Well that was an abrupt change from our previous topic, sorry to hear about that sister."
(Johan Pavlova)
[18:57:08]
"A-haaaaa..." It's sort of one of those deflating laughs. The kind that fratboys do when someone asks them to have an opinion and they have to make a noise while they think. That kind of laugh.

Her hands and wings remain folded, however, face still smiling and posture ever-confident. Iriel'sa nods at Johan's apologies, her smile never once wavering.

"Well, I did read the declaration. That last part about Providence actually seemed pointed directly at you, rather than Providence as a whole, Dura. But!"

"I did also talk with her the moment I returned."

Iriel'sa readjusts her posture, still smiling at Johan. When she turns her  gaze to Dura, the smile hardens, morphing ever so subtly into the Political Discussion smile.

"I need to be upfront when I say I believe that she does, indeed, have the best interests of Rhyst and Providence at the heart of her actions. She is working towards it in..." Iriel'sa's hands rise to her face to rub her cheeks. "...Her own way."

"I can confirm, at least, a few things. She is not and never will be a Nevanerro cultist. She is actively working to turn many Nephilim away from this Istaroth cultist and her beliefs. However."

"...I do have to admit she's a bit high on power. Like... actually drugged up from the sudden rush of power that being a Nephilim, and being made out of meat, gives. It was a liiiittle concerning." Iriel'sa smirks. "In short. I trust her, but I do want to hear and understand every concern you have."
(Iriel'sa Enathrae)
[19:05:09]
Dura always holds herself stiff and rigid. This is no exception.

Except for maybe the fact that it redoubles. How she gets more stiff than she already does is some miracle of modern science and ingenuity.

"You may trust her."

"I do not." Cudgel blunt. It hasn't changed. It may never change. Dura takes her opinion like a mallet and wields it to, sometimes, disastrous effect.

"She went on this on her own. None of this was condoned by the Court. DeLisle, I am sure, will confirm as much."

"Her talking about 'peaceful disarmament of Providence' is a gigantic red flag that I can't even begin to describe to you. Because that is the exact rhetorical bullshit that Deliverance waved before they decided that it was, all along, a huge lie."

"I don't know what she said to you. But what I do know is they - the Nephilim of Alicante - killed one of the few Seraphim with the most compassion and redemption among all of them. And now she threatens them broadly. With bloodshed and death and fear.

My concern is, though that we share a great deal of overlap in ideals, she has gone on this on her own. No matter how I spoke to her about collaboration. No matter how I said 'this was not the only way'.

She chooses the path of war and bloodshed and deceit of her own volition."
(Dura Levante)
[19:20:33]
Iriel'sa cants her head to one side, still smiling. It might've seemed like a condescending expression if 'super happy to see you!' wasn't Iriel'sa's neutral state. She takes Dura's bluntness and responds with her own in kind.

"Huh. She told me that you told her that you do trust her, when last you spoke. Did that change? Was that before her little public letter?" It's a genuine question. One that she waits to be answered before taking a breath to continue.

"And remember that she said she would never allow a repeat of Deliverance's war. No matter what deceit she lays at your feet. She does not lie to me." The smile softens, almost becoming a frown. "Though I do see the concern, I assure you. Hm. I think I'll have to catch her for another talk. See about convincing her that some collaboration, under the table or no, would be best. Much as I know you hate under the table."

"And I need to stress to you that Istaroth killed Ezrean." Now she is frowning. "Camilla along with like... a solid ninety percent of the Nephilim, even those loyal to the Arbiters, hate that. This is the classic issue I saw with Deliverance and Lett'Mora. Every material 'victory' leads to a morale loss."

"I hate that he died. I only spoke to him once but..." Silence. Her eyes drift away from Dura to bore into the table. Her face contorts, for just a moment, into displeasure.

"..."

"Yeah. She does choose that path." There is no denial or attempt to twist it into something good. "So. You know my personal stance on it. I'm at least aware of yours. What is Providence's official stance?"
(Iriel'sa Enathrae)
[19:29:27]
The Regent's jaw clenches. As if the rest of her wasn't already coiled tight like a spring.

"She asked if she had my faith. And then asked that even if she didn't, requested that I lie.

Because if I did not lie. If I didn't 'pretend to have faith'. It would 'go poorly'." Her fingertips brace against the table. They dig into the table's hard wood. The crystal ones find much greater and splintering purchase than the flesh and blood ones.

"Like my opinions were being held f**king hostage."

"But that was before the public letter. That was before the raid. Before Ezrean died."

"The brother to the man I -"


She almost says it. What comes next dies, snuffed like a candle's flame and twice as quick. Dura shoves it down. As she so often does.

"I offered her the chance for something 'under the table'. She left because she was uncomfortable. She left after she made broad claims of her l-" That word dies in her throat too. Oh, how she hates to speak it out loud here. No. It's not allowed.

"She made false claims. She doesn't know me. And now she talks about what is best for me and for Providence."

"No one knows what is best for Providence but Providence. It doesn't matter what Eidolon or Spirit or Would-Be-God says it." There is a note of defiance and rebellion to it. It had been the same for Deliverance. It applied here.

"I intend to speak to my court about Providence's official stance. This is a courtesy to you first and foremost."

"As her wife and as Urosil's Seer."
(Dura Levante)
[19:50:49]
The lock jingles.


The latch folds, shifting carelessly to clamber against timeworn wood. The door dramatically - slowly - shifts open, muted as a backdrop of white billows down through frostbitten streets. Trailing purple fabrics waver softly in the breeze, allowing an icy chill to surge inward.

He looms in the doorway. In other context, the God of War 2018 music might start playing. Here? He just stares, confusedly, at the gathering before shifting inward and closing it at his back. Light stamps into the entryway rug disperse sheets of ice, snow, and watered droplets into the fabric, before footsteps carry him over yonder -

He casually opens a chest. He shifts through a handful of papers, slotting them in carefully throughout his mar-a-lago home, and then turns to the gathering.

"Hello." he greets, plainly.
(Celius Vaelstrum)
[19:56:12]
"She has weird ways of showing how she loves people," Iriel'sa says the word freely and easily, compared to Dura's stoppage. "And she does love you! Or at least like you a lot. She's gushed to me before about how blunt and direct you are. About how you stand up and are a rock in a rushing current. About how you're what people need to see at the head of a strong Providence," Iriel'sa shrugs.

"It's the kinds of things I like a lot about you too, Dura."

Her fingers drum against the table as the lock jingles and the man in question walks through the door. Iriel'sa smiles at Celius as he arrives, nodding in response to his simple greeting. "Hello, Celius. Nice to see you again!" No sarcasm or hidden meaning at all. She really is just happy to see the seraphim.

Her attention returns to Dura.

"Alright. I'll be happy to know your official stance. And I'm especially happy you had this meeting with me. It's a good thing to keep each other updated before big things, right?" The smile widens. "I'm happy the tradition is continuing. Speaking of tradition-."

Her wings spread ever so slightly, the fourfold shape of feathers and limbs fluttering as she prepares herself for what she has to say next. Dura has a problem with the L-word. Iriel'sa has a problem with an entirely different one. Her smile fades, her eyes close, and her wings flutter.

"If she gets out of hand, if she really does fall into Nevanerro cultism and become a problem that threatens Rhyst. Then I'll-." A pause. A breath, then she gets out.

"Just like Pascha and dad before me, I'll kill her by my own hand if it becomes necessary for me to do so."
(Iriel'sa Enathrae)
[20:06:33]
'Weird ways of showing it'. As if Irel'sa had been a fly on the wall during the exact conversation. It's more than a little haunting.

The Regent slices her hand through the air at Iriel'sa's assertion. Her ire immediately and violently rises.

"No. I don't f**king care what she says. No she does not. That's not - that's not what that is. That's the same way people talk about their favorite foods for favorite weapons, about things and objects they use, that's NOT-"

Her train of thought gets cut short. The door creaks open. And, as if the hand of Fate itself decided to backhand her, in walks Celius.

She visibly loses steam on whatever she'd been talking about. A hand rises up to rub at her cheek, then her eyes.

"She already practically declared herself as much, Iriel'sa. And I don't see any reason to keep who and what she was a secret. I don't like this deception. I never have, I never will, and I feel like most of what she said to me last time was just to twist me to what she wants."

There it is. It's back. It's gaining momentum again.

"And I do not like that. I do not like people dictating where I go or what I do. Especially not when they said the things she said." No. That just made it worse.
(Dura Levante)
[20:23:26]
An elbow rests top the table, a cheek rests atop her fist. The smile fades, glowing green eyes affixed on Dura more than anything else. She remains utterly silent, listening and thinking, waiting until Dura is done.

"...You are far more worked up, Dura, about what she says rather than what she does. I know you don't like lies, but there's something more to it than that, isn't there? What do you hate about it so much that you start mixing the lies with the truth until you call them all lies? What has you so angry about this?"

Something Dura says brings her pause.

"No, she didn't. She explicitly said she's not a Nevanerro cultist. It's pretty clear to me as well that she isn't. What she is, is someone very angry at a lot of different powerful figures, Nevanerro included. Remember, she's driving a wedge between the Nephilim and Istaroth."

Iriel'sa grips her chin, messaging her face with a thumb on one cheek and her fingers on another.

"Words carry a lot more power for you than fists do, don't they, Dura?"
(Iriel'sa Enathrae)
[20:43:43]
'Nice to see you again.'


"I'm not sure if the sentiment will last, but I'm thankful for it regardless."

The chest falls closed. The lock is clipped back on without a fancy showing of it. The Seraphim rises back up to his feet, gazing back over the table with a short pause. The words sink. Dura's tone rises, met only with a less-restrained grip upon their shoulder and wordless reaffirmation.

No point. Not right now.

"I understand why you're remaining hopeful." he chimes, naught but a passing glance unto Iriel'sa. "There's much more at stake for you than silly politics. You have personal investment in this, and want to believe otherwise - " he trails,

"But when you proclaim intent to do away with all who stand in your newfound path and apologize to your former allies in the same breath."

"When you step out of your way to assure the removal of any who might deny you your newfound luxuries and the freedom you've wasted once before."

"When you prove it by making active attempts at the safety and peace of those who disagree with you, then I find what little truths might dwell in that slew of thinly veiled threats and half-hearted apologies to be nothing by comparison."

"Everything she has said has lined up with what she has done."


Lips purse.

"Just be ready."

He didn't speak with hatred. It was a simple proclamation of what he knew to be fact, having stood in 'Candle's' way already. Having witnessed already the extent of her involvement and action. What Iriel'sa had stated was something far more easily said than done, after all ;

And if the day came? They would have to be.

His grip falls lax. He shifts toward the Kitchen. There was nothing more for him to add.
(Celius Vaelstrum)
[20:52:56]
"Yes, and in some ways what she says and does do not match. Maybe you can see why that's an issue for me. Maybe you can't. It doesn't matter."

"It matters to me. And that's all that counts."

"I'm not going to be twisted and pulled and pushed just because someone batted their eyes at me and said they care for me. That's not how this f**king works anymore. That Dura is dead." Literally.

It's ramping up again. It's ramping up into something ugly, drawn from deep below from things shoved down. For the good of Rhyst. For the good of Providence.

Whether the hand at her shoulder is a good or bad thing, ultimately, cannot be said. What can be said is it does produce tangible results. That vitriol and venom that bubbles up from the surface like so much repressed tar from the passing years -

Starts to slow. Her keel returns to something more even. A glance is shot Celius' way that carries muted gratitude.

"...She didn't say she was a Nevanerro cultist, but she already admitted this was going to change her. Not even always for the better. And she put Providence on the chopping block in her rhetoric. Directly. She took open shots at us."

"Her rhetoric is the same as Deliverance's. That's pointed right at us." Dura straightens herself. She becomes more solemn.

"I don't intend to be dishonest. And I don't intend intend to sit back and let her cult take shots at us. It sets a dangerous precedent."

"We did not let Deliverance dictate what we did. Alicante won't do so either. The minute she dragged our name into it, she made this difficult."

To say nothing of the more personal ties she had to all of it. But she can keep it professional. She can keep it contained. For now.

"I'll speak to my Court and await some decisions to give you our official stance. But right now I can give you a tentative 'not great'."
(Dura Levante)
[21:14:30]
Celius steals away her attention. Iriel'sa's eyes drift up to Celius. She smirks.

"I am a hopeful optimist, aren't I? It's kind of one of my better traits." Even with the tease, she keeps her gaze locked on Celius, listening to him as he speaks. There's a lot she could try to interject with, a lot she could try to start a real conversation about. But Celius doesn't seem too interested. Besides. He's the one who lost a brother.

"You will do as you deem necessary," is all the response he gets. Likely all he wanted to hear.

Dura once again has her focus as Celius leaves towards the kitchen, her chin resting atop her fist. She weathers Dura's vitriol and passion with that stock standard smile. She awaits. Until it's all out.

"...Take care, Dura, that you do not paint 'Alicante' as a whole as under Conceit's umbrella. The Nephilim, as I understand, are far more fractured and divided than the Seraphim. We of Urosil do not even consider 'Alicante' to be a state or organization in its own right. Just... be careful of others." Iriel'sa's smile softens into a kinder, warmer curve of the lips.

"...Yeah she did herself no favors with her rhetoric, huh?" Iriel'sa shakes her head.

"I can accept a tentative 'not great'. Urosil's current official stance, in return, is that we do not accept either Alicante or Solace as states or organization, and stand against the Cult of Nevanerro and Istaroth's designs. However small the actual Cult may be." She hums. "...Otherwise, I think my council needs a meeting too. We still need to talk about Lestrahdt too."

She presses her face into her hands, a realization weighing on her shoulders. "Gods we need to talk about Lestrahdt. My problem though, not yours."

"M'gonna have a lot of problems going forward. That's great, actually. I work best under pressure."
(Iriel'sa Enathrae)
[21:21:42]
What little that hasn't been already shoved back under the lid works its way through her, worms out into the cold light of day before it evaporates.

"I don't need to be reminded of the fractured state of the Nephilim," she comments dryly. Which may or may not be an improvement over 'dripping with venom'. Take your pick.

"No. She didn't do herself any favors. And I've half a mind to air her the f**k out for it." There's a subtle heat to those words and a snort, but no outright acid.

"I'll talk to my Court. I know you've got plenty to catch up on."

"And yeah. Lestrahdt, by the way? Not welcome here. So you're aware. I saw his funny little blood ritual with the 'Princess'. I'm not having any part of him or that in Providence."

"You've got a lot on your plate. And in order to be transparent - as I've already discussed with Johan, I'll state my intent with you as Seer of Urosil and ally of Providence." She interlaces her fingers.

"I've submitted a petition to the Isegradian Court at large for a title of nobility. Results pending. But I don't care for any cloak and dagger nonsense, so you're officially being informed. Along with the rest of my Court."
(Dura Levante)
[21:38:48]
"Uuuuuuuugggggghhhhhhhh..." Iriel'sa lets professionalism slip and just makes a long, frustrated noise into the palms of her hands, burying her face there as Dura lays out exactly how Providence laid down the law on Lestrahdt.

It checks out.

She rubs at her face and continues making the noise, until it's less of an "Ugh" and more of a "Mwughwmwughwmuwghmwugh." She grips at her face. "Where isn't he banned from?"

She sighs, releases her face, then looks up at Dura. She smiles! The new news brushes all the bad stuff off the table! Just for the moment, at least.

"Oh? OH! Really?! That's actually excellent news! Imagine! Lady Dura Levante, official progenitor of House Levante!" Her ears wiggle, she grins wide, her fingers interlacing with one another as she stares at Dura with no small amount of excitement.

She almost has to wonder why this is something that would have required cloak and dagger at all. Or why she needed to be officially informed as a Seer rather than just as a friend. "Hey! It's just waiting now, right? Do you need anything else to complete it? Any reference letters or something? Not that I can help, being Arlandrian, but still! That's really exciting, Dura!" The more she speaks, the closer she leans to Dura, until it's like they're in the academy days and Iriel'sa is gushing over a cool new sticker on Dura's binder or something.
(Iriel'sa Enathrae)
[21:43:40]
"Yeah. There was a whole debacle where he came in here and shivved someone. But we had no eye witnesses. And then there was some...consensual neck chewing between him and Ebb?" She mentions it, then brushes past it with a shake of her head.

"His presence here was a problem. So he's been banned. I heard your own people offered him a funny blood oath - which Celius and I both saw the unfortunate beginnings of - to try and keep him in line."

"Not my beetles, though."

There's a few stunned blinks as, just like that, Iriel'sa perks up. If there is anything to dull the edge of what Dura is?

It is unabashed confusion.


"You make it sound a lot more exciting than it really is," she replies, perplexed. That his is something to feel any joy in doesn't seem to register.

"No. I doubt people supporting the Rebellion will be super happy about it, but this isn't for the sake of either side. Really it is just - like you say. Waiting right now."

"Didn't want my people or my allies to see this as some kind of funny little powerplay. So I'm playing it aboveboard."
(Dura Levante)
[21:45:21] Johan Pavlova says, "My sister is going to be a cunt about it, not you Iriel'sa.. Roza will be absolutely fuming."
[21:45:42] Celius Vaelstrum says, "Neck chewing came first."
[21:45:48] Iriel'sa Enathrae says, "I still haven't met Roza. She sounds exactly like I'd expect a mix of Pascha and Celandine to act."
[21:46:13] Iriel'sa Enathrae says, "I suppose that is a good call, keeping it all out in the open. Still though, why apply for it? Did you just want it?"
[21:46:37] Dura Levante says, "No. Less a matter of want."
[21:46:56] Dura Levante says, "I saw this as a clean way to keep it out of any succession tiffs and keep it moving forward."
[21:47:25] Iriel'sa Enathrae says, "Johan. What's the over-under on Roza actually attempting to shiv Dura?"
[21:47:44] Dura Levante says, "And yes - the..."
[21:47:46] Dura Levante says, "Neck chewing."
[21:47:47] Dura Levante says, "Ugh."
[21:47:53] Johan Pavlova says, "Roza would rather I become Duke, but no idea if that's being truthful."
[21:48:10] Dura Levante says, "It's alright. She's welcome to try."
[21:48:28] Johan Pavlova says, "Also she'd probably try to shiv Providence if it did succeed in switching the Dukedom's line to another person."