Isameri - Wanderer's Palace

Isaudorel Vairemont adjusts his coat one final time, nodding to himself. "I am ready to depart when you are, my dear Meria!"
Meria Boucher waits by the doorway for Isaudorel to enter the room, standing with a militant, rigid posture and staring straight at the wall. Instead of greeting him normally, however, she responds by dropping to one knee, bowing her head in a gesture of courtley respect and crossing her arm over her chest. "Of course, my lord. Do you have any burdens you would like me to carry?"
Isaudorel Vairemont is momentarily at a loss for words. He shakes his head. "Ah, no, but thank you, my dear Meria." He pauses. " 'My lord'? Are you unwell?" Another pause. "No, you look far too radiant to be unwell, of course that's not it..."
Meria Boucher may have a perpetually stoic demeanor, but in this instance she is even further committed to maintaining that these is absolutely nothing weird going on here, or that she is acting in any way that deviates from her normal behavioral patterns. /At all./ "I am the picture of hale and hearty health, my lord, though it is kind of you to inquire into the health of your knight. You shall have my complete protection during your expedition."
Isaudorel Vairemont: "And I will support you, my dearest Meria, to the best of my abilities." He opens his coat to reveal an assortment of potions and elixirs. "Although I still must wonder what has gotten into you, I won't think on it overlong before our trip. No sense in wasting such a wonderful evening with idle thoughts."
Meria Boucher: "As always, you are admirably prepared." There is a nod, and Meria turns towards the door, unlatching the (frankly quite ludicrous number of) locks before holding it open for him. At first, it seems like she's not going to acknowledge what he said at all, but looking away slightly, she manages a, "...It is a special occasion, so I am simply trying to be especially attenative. That is all."
Isaudorel Vairemont nods and smiles, patting her head as he approaches the door. "Very well, let us be off then. And I thank you, my dear Meria, for your consideration."
Meria Boucher enjoys the headpats like a truly Respectable Knight only can.
Meria Boucher: ...And so we've arrived, my lord. Please watch your step; the palace has deteriorated over the years and there may be loose stones and broken masonry.
Isaudorel Vairemont takes a breath as he looks around. "Truly fascinating." He nods to his Completely Normal Respectable Knight. "Thank you for your concern, my dear knight."
Meria Boucher: You do me a great honor. Would you like me to secure the hall, my lord?
Isaudorel Vairemont: "If you would be so kind, but do take care. I'd like to minimise any potential danger, at least as much as we can."
Meria Boucher nods. "As you will." Its then that she extends her hand, withdrawing the knives sheathed at her back and suspending them in the air around her. One slams into the chest of the tonberry waiting down the hall, even as it turns to face the woman stalking towards it on a quest for murder.
Meria Boucher walks over to one of the tonberry corpses, withdrawing her knife from one with a schlunk of organic matter. "Threat neutralized."
Isaudorel Vairemont claps softly as his fiance proceeds to systematically destroys the denizens of the old Nymian ruins. "Splendid as always, my dear Meria! Such odd little creatures, though..."
Meria Boucher: Indeed. I've heard tell they are the frenzied descendents of those traped within this city by the flood, changed by the plague which devastated the city of Nym.
Isaudorel Vairemont: "I'd dare say we're doing them a small kindness by killing them, then." He places a hand on his chin and murmurs, looking over the corpses.
Meria Boucher: I have heard no cure. It is said that it was a plague created using voidal magics.
Isaudorel Vairemont frowns. "Such a terrible fate." He shakes his head, promptly mentally moving on from the corpses. "Shall we continue? Perhaps you can regale me with more Nymian history as we walk and continue to put these poor things out of their misery?"
Meria Boucher: Of course, my lord. Have you heard much of the War of the Magi?
Isaudorel Vairemont: "Outside of passing, cursory glances at history books, I can't say that I have."
Meria Boucher: It was fought between three ancient city-states - Mhach, Nym, and Ampador... and it was what sparked the Sixth Umbral Calamity and ravaged the aether of this star. It is the reason why both White and Black magic have become known as things of dark legend, and feared when a practicioner of either art comes to light.
Meria Boucher pauses, looking over the room for any sign of a threat.
Isaudorel Vairemont nods. "I have heard of Mhach, yes; it was during a dark time in my life when revenge and paranoia consumed my every waking minute." He doesn't sound particularly proud to be admitting that, and keeps his voice low.
Meria Boucher turns towards him fully. "I do not judge you for any past interest in the Weeping City, my lord. I am here now."
Isaudorel Vairemont smiles and places a hand on her head. "And for that, my dearest, most beloved and cherished knight, Meria, you have my thanks."
Meria Boucher ... does turn a little red at that, but the mask covers most of her cheeks so its only the lightest dusting of pink that's visible. "It is only proper. I've vowed to serve you to the ends of the earth."
Isaudorel Vairemont: "And I will serve you in turn, my dear."
Meria Boucher is not flustered, she is not, she is a very Proud and Proper Knight and - ah. She seems to hear something, head tilted slightly and shifting towards the doorway. "If you would wait here one moment, my lord..."
Isaudorel Vairemont: "Of course, do what you need to do."
Meria Boucher slinks off, sticking close to the wall and muffling her steps as she pads along softly. She peers around the corner, then slips around it. Silence, then some thumping and shuffling, and a tonberry flies past the entryway and lands in the pool of water with a splash, a knife sticking out of its chest. There's another soft clatter of metal and a thud, and then Meria appears again.
Meria Boucher slinks off, sticking close to the wall and muffling her steps as she pads along softly. She peers around the corner, then slips around it. Silence, then some thumping and shuffling, and a tonberry flies past the entryway and lands in the pool of water with a splash, a knife sticking out of its chest. There's another soft clatter of metal and a thud, and then Meria appears again.
Meria Boucher gives Isaudorel a thumbs up - then quickly realizes knights don't Do That, and sharply changes her gesture to a salute.
Isaudorel Vairemont gives another soft clap, carefully making his way through the water and over to the body. "Another fantastic display, my knight!"
Meria Boucher withdraws the blood-stained knife with a flick of her finger, giving a Isaudorel a nod. "I am to please, my lord."
Isaudorel Vairemont: "And your accuracy with both knives and pleasing me is exceptional." That probably sounded better in his head.
Meria Boucher: I exist to stab things and please you.
Isaudorel Vairemont laughs and shakes his head. "And you are an expert at both! Now, shall we continue?"
Meria Boucher: Yes, I have secured the next courtyard for you. Right this way, sir.
Meria Boucher has, indeed, done more than one murder. On the path are a pair of tonberries, one of which has been clearly stabbed by the other's knife. In the water up-ahead, there is another floating face down.
Isaudorel Vairemont looks up at the ceiling as he enters the hallway. "What a beautiful chandelier. Perhaps we could get something similar for our home?"
Meria Boucher: It is very lovely, sir. I believe we could find something similar.
Isaudorel Vairemont: "Excellent! Very well, that's a bit of mental housekeeping taken care of. Let us continue."
Meria Boucher: I do always enjoy furniture discussions. It is very domestic.
Isaudorel Vairemont: "If we're able to find a larger home in the future, perhaps a Nymian theme for one of the rooms?" He pauses. "Or even a Nymian theme for one of our current rooms?"
Meria Boucher looks towards the gears churning in the wall. "Interesting. That they've kept turning for so long..."
Meria Boucher: I am not opposed. Are you particularly fond of Nymian architecture?
Isaudorel Vairemont: "It's rather pleasing to the eye, I must admit." He notes the gears. "I'd imagine those would have to be exceptionally well-oiled." A pause. "My dear knight, would it be possible for us to get a sample of said oil?"
Isaudorel Vairemont pulls an empty vial from his coat.
Meria Boucher takes it in her palm. "Of course, sir. One moment."
Meria Boucher climbs up over the broken tone, then crouches right before the churning gears, examining them and watching as they clunk and clatter. Waiting... waiting...
Isaudorel Vairemont admires the gears. "There's an odd sort of beauty to the rhythm of all of this, isn't there?"
Meria Boucher snaps her hand forward, sticking her palm INTO THE THE CHURNING GEARS just before they meet, which is probably horrifyingly dangerous and somewhere, an OSCHA employee is screaming in agony. She does not get entirely mauled however, and she slides some of the slick residue on her hand into the vial.
Meria Boucher: It is. I've... never seen a mechanism so large, I don't think,
Meria Boucher comments like she hadn't just shoved her hand in the middle of it. "Hm. Not a large sample. Perhaps we can find more elsewhere..."
Isaudorel Vairemont places his hand on his chest, about having a heart attack at watching Meria do that. He takes a breath and steps away from the gears. "P-perhaps, yes, or that would likely be enough, at least for now."
Meria Boucher: ...Is something the matter, sir?
Isaudorel Vairemont: "You... you stuck your hands between the gears, my dear Meria! Had you been but a quarter of a second slower, well..." He dares not continue.
Meria Boucher: Oh, I was watching the rotation of the gears to time their movements. I would not have dared ever let you see a sight as ugly as me getting injured in that manner.
Meria Boucher: It would have been horribly unknight-ly.
Isaudorel Vairemont: "I... trust your methods, my dear knight. Now, ah, let us continue." A pause, just for a moment. "Away from further gears, ideally."
Meria Boucher: As you command, my lord.
Meria Boucher reacts swiftly to the bugs skittering out from a crack in the wall, driving her knives down to impale their fat bodies. "--Vilekin!" She says, excitement in her voice until she realizes... oh. Wait. Knight. Proper. She coughs.
Isaudorel Vairemont: "Would you like a sample of them, my dear Meria? Perhaps a whole... well, mostly whole... specimen to take home?"
Meria Boucher: Yes, ah - perhaps it will be helpful to your work.
Meria Boucher picks up one of the knives - with the bug still attached - and just...
Meria Boucher - ...slides it in her bag.
Meria Boucher coughs slightly. "Right."
Isaudorel Vairemont: "Shall we continue, then?"
Meria Boucher: Yes, let's.
Meria Boucher holds up a hand, looking ahead. "...Let me take care of that, my lord."
Isaudorel Vairemont squints at the thing in the distance. "A large, gelatinous creature." He reaches into his coat and offers her a vial of murky blue liquid. "Improved speed and dexterity, just in case."
Meria Boucher uncorks it, downing it with a swift movement. "You are as magnanimous as ever, sir. I will dispatch of this thing posthaste."
Isaudorel Vairemont: "Brilliant display, as always!"
Meria Boucher sprinted, charging at the gobbue with knives trailing after her in her wake. She smoothly slides past the limb snaking out to grab her, forming a gravity well in front of it to pull the thing off-balance. Though it stumbles, it's center of balance isn't so uneven for it to fall - instead squating with an odd-grumble - and Meria JUMPS, grabbing onto one of the vines growing atop its back and rock-climbing this shit. It flails, trying to dislodge the awful astrologian, but she thrusts her -
Meria Boucher - dagger into its back, holding onto it to keep it in place. The others are driven in soon after, and as it thrashes, it's pushed off-center enough for her to haul it down with her gravitiational pull. Over and over again, she stabs it until it is dead... and she does not notice the stone that rolls from its limp jaw as life leaves its body.
Meria Boucher pants slightly, crouching on it. "Thank you, sir. Your potion was most effective."
Isaudorel Vairemont: "I'll begin working on more as soon as possible, then." He walks over, taking note of the stone that fell from its mouth. Removing his nice gloves, he picks it up, not paying any mind to the horrible goobue saliva all over it.
Meria Boucher slides off the thing's back. "My lord?"
Isaudorel Vairemont: "My dear Meria, have you ever seen anything like this? A type of... crystal, perhaps?"
Isaudorel Vairemont cleans the stone with a handkerchief produced from his coat before offering it to her.
Meria Boucher squints at it. "How odd. Perhaps... it ate some artifact or another? Or a crystalline sample? The city of Nym was well-known for its scholars and academics; its magical school was dedicated towards tactics and learning..."
Meria Boucher takes it in her palm, studying it in the dying light. "It's quite pretty."
Isaudorel Vairemont: "Perhaps this is a symbol of their... well, not unlike a dragoon's armor or a knight's shield. A token of their successful initiation."
Isaudorel Vairemont nods to himself. "Perhaps we should return home and look into this?"
Meria Boucher: Certainly, my lord. If that would please you.
Isaudorel Vairemont offers her his hand, smiling. "I'm still not entirely certain *why* you've taken on a knightly persona, but I am also not complaining. Let us return home, my beloved knight."
Meria Boucher looks up at him. "...Because sometimes, I am not sure how else to let you know what an honor it is to serve you, my lord." She takes his hand, and then she kneels, pressing a kiss to the back of it before standing. ...She doesn't let go, though.
Isaudorel Vairemont smiles, kneels, and presses a kiss to her hand in return. "Then we are of the same mind, my dear Meria."
Meria Boucher is... maybe still running off a bit of adrenaline from her Shadow of the Colossus boss kill, catches him by the shoulder before he fully stands, taking the opportunity to place a brief kiss on his mouth. "If you'll forgive the indiscretion," she murmurs. "My lord can be a little too charming for his own good."
Isaudorel Vairemont: "Consider yourself forgiven," he gives her a quick peck on the cheek.