Logs:Warmth
| Warmth | |
|---|---|
| Dramatis Personae | |
| In Absentia | 2025-01-02 "Somehow, I'd rather take a brain fungus..." |
| Location
<PRV> The Belfry - Le Bonne Entente - Astoria | |
Nestled just below the belfry and above the gardeners' workshop and storage rooms, this penthouse apartment is accessible only at the proprietor sufferance via a special panel in the elevator and a locked utility stairway. The whole of it is psi-shielded, and equipped with a largely unused power suppression grid as well. Spanning one and a half levels, this space could be mistaken for an extension of the conservatory below, with plentiful bookshelves and greenery spilling from every nook, but even a cursory examination will reveal the personal touches that went into its design, softening the neoclassical aesthetic of the building at large with paradoxically fastidious whimsy. The elevator shaft bridging the full level and the loft is, save for the doors, encased in the coral reef of an immense cylindrical aquarium that houses a thriving tropical community. The sitting room immediately adjoining this is bright and airy, open to the empty half of the story above, with a plush circular sectional couch, a low tea table, a sideboard and a bar, its walls covered with lush trellises where not taken up with recessed bookshelves. Opposite the oceanic entryway on the western wall, tall french doors lead to a crescent balcony with views of the waterfront and city beyond as well as the restaurant terrace and garden far below. To either side of the doors, floor to ceiling waterfall windows feed twin pools connected under a thick glass floor panel, an indoor pond lined with smooth river stones and stocked with hardy freshwater fish. On the other end of the apartment, tucked under the loft and behind the elevator shaft, is a large kitchen bracketed by a pantry on one end and a breakfast nook on the other, its culinary conveniences--even the the refrigerator and ovens--hidden behind opaque glass panels that light up at a touch with lists of their contents. An elegant floating stairway spirals up around the elevator cum aquarium, its balusters and those of the loft's railing above twined with well-trained philodendrons. The long wall of the loft showcases a variety of bows from historical and modern, humble to ornate. A no-nonsense workshop at one end of this gallery stores the less picturesque archery paraphernalia as well as a wide range of tools, striking a quaint contrast with the cozier if no less utilitarian study at the other end. Open offset doorways at either end lead to a capacious bedroom with a king sized bed, its walls graced with myriad orchids and other epiphytes in Greek sconces. The generously sized bathroom is tiled with mosaic scenes from classical mythology and has an entire corner dedicated to the antique clawfoot tub. The walk-in closet is similarly generous, with specialized storage for every imaginable accessory, and a hidden staircase leading to the belfry above and the exit below. There is quiet music playing -- violin, an austere Bacewicz concerto piped gentle through the expansive apartment. Lucien is in the kitchen as he waits for his guest, just finishing up with folding napkins into a neat layered pocket for the silverware. Perhaps this is not really necessary for a simple meal in his breakfast nook, but the precise repetitive movements seem to calm an unusual degree of restless agitation in his hands. He is simply dressed -- soft green sweater over a cream button-down, jeans. Flèche has parked herself halfway between the dining nook and the stove (still simmering a rich and coconutty adobo stew of chicken and root vegetables), a better vantage point to keep an eye on any angles food might potentially appear from. The ding of the elevator signals the arrival of Lucien's guest. Wearing a black turtleneck and an olive green jacket and some nice blue jeans, Winona looks up and around as she enters the apartment. Her eyes widen in wonder as she sees the all the water features. She calls, "Hi, I'm here!" to ensure that her host is not surprised by her sudden presence as she navigates her way, drawn by the scent of the adobo stew. Flèche is up in an instant, giving one performative alarm bark before renouncing her guard-dog duties entirely padding over eagerly to Winona with her tail swooshing high. Though she is quite well trained enough not to jump, there is a small prance-prance-prance of her forepaws with the excitement of seeing this Out Of Context Friend here in her home. "-- Oh! Welcome -- shoes, please, if you don't mind." Lucien has, admittedly, said this precautionarily just after the elevator dings open. He is rising, poking his head out of the kitchen but then almost immediately bowing it and returning to his table setting. He tucks the napkins neatly into place before slipping back to the stove to switch the burner off. "Forgive Flèche, I've been starving her of both food and affection; you might be her only hope." While Winona had already unlaced her black boots, she nods at Lucien's request to remove them, though only the fish are there to recognize the affirmation. "It smells amazing in here," says Winona, a relaxed smile on her face as she nods greeting to Lucien, which becomes a bit more energetic when Flèche prances over. While she can do little to rescue the dog from starvation, she crouches down to try and at least ease the desperate loneliness of the poor creature who has never been pet by anyone ever. "Your home is-- wow. I've never seen anything like it," says Winona when she looks up from telling Flèche all kinds of secrets about what a good pup she is. "How do you even put something like this together?" "Hive," is Lucien's immediate answer. "He has a particular knack for taking the vaguest of dreams and turning them into -- well." He turns one hand elegantly upward, gesturing more expansively than just the apartment to the somewhat enchanted hotel it is connected to. He is getting out some wine, deftly uncorking it. "I wanted a place that felt like my own, and he realized it far beyond what I even imagined. I admit I had not at all predicted how much time I would spend here after all." His eyes are fixed very intently on his task, though surely it does not take so very much concentration to remove the cork and pour two glasses. "-- or who would be spending it with me." "Well, props to Hive. He really did an amazing job with this spot. I mean, with--" She gestures her hand in a circle, "But this is just--" Winona trails off and then shrugs with wide eyes, letting imagination fill in the last word. "I'm glad this place turned out to be such a good refuge, what with everything," she says, before smiling in Lucien's direction, "And I appreciate the invite. The whole building feels sorta magical, but this--" She rises back up to a standing position. "It's another level." "It is a bit magical." Lucien has set the wine on the table; he's carefully transferring the stew to a serving dish, now. "And still in all its wonder it would not have been enough, if not --" He hesitates, his lips compressing briefly. He moves the stew to sit next to some fresh garlic rice, and then studies the table as if he has forgotten something. His fingers snap together, and he goes to get a pitcher of water from the fridge. "-- this year has been a touch tumultuous. I think it would have been far moreso without your trust." "A touch tumultuous indeed," Winona agrees, a little amused at the understatement. "You were there for me during pretty tough times, there, so it's only fair that you get some of the support that's coming to you." She pauses as she looks down at the table, to the food and the wine, and pulls out a chair to seat herself. "Though it's like they say, friends don't let friends get assassinated. Can just chalk it up to friendly duty." "I must admit, that particular aphorism escaped me." There is amusement warming Lucien's eyes. He serves up two dishes of the rich stew, ladled hot over the fragrant rice, and takes his own seat after he has served Winona's. "An odd number of friends this past year seemed to take it rather in stride that --" His eyes lower to his own bowl for a moment. He reaches out to settle a hand on Flèche's head when she comes over to give him hopeful begging eyes, and with the soft feel of her ear under his fingers his words come a little more easily again. "Yesterday we did a touch of experimenting. Isolating -- Elie's somewhat elusive power. I think --" He hesitates, and takes a slow sip of wine. When he sets the glass down he has perhaps changed course slightly from where he'd originally been heading with this sentence. "-- important information if we are to eradicate her influence for good." Winona can't help but smile as she smells the stew that's been served, though this flash of genuine delight is brief. She knits her eyebrows slightly at the mention of Elie's power, and mirrors the sip of her wine with Lucien's. "You figured out what she's doing? I heard that Matt had posted bail," this recollection information draws a scowl on her face, "Which I don't think was part of any plan that I was in on. I'm..." She hesitates and picks up her spoon, bracing herself for disappointment. "I'm guessing that it's not brain fungus..." "It was not part of the plan at all, he went considerably off-course at the last moment. Which is not so very surprising, given the past year, but --" Lucien just shakes his head here, small. He is swirling his wine slowly in its goblet, eyes fixed on the red as it runs down the side of the glass. "I do not believe fungus is involved." He sounds deeply apologetic as he informs Winona of this. "But she does work her way somewhat insidiously into brains. It is not a telepathy -- more biokinetic. It seems to have a somewhat levelling effect," he finally says, carefully. "Pulling other minds towards a baseline of complacency. Drawing everything around her towards an acceptance of her perspective. It --" He blinks, here. Takes another small sip of his wine. "Has likely been working on my family -- somewhat heavily, since she got her freedom back." Winona pauses and chews on her lip thoughtfully for a few moments while Elie's power is explained to her. "That... makes sense. It explains why--" She stops and furrows her eyebrows, "When I was investigating what happened, it was... Chilling. How casual, how callous people were seeming. Like this is just another day of activities." She shrinks inwards uncomfortably. "And Prometheus. She wasn't in-- She must have worked on Lily, she must have worked on everyone there. The Court, everything." A shudder passes through her, and she turns to the stew to warm the chill. "It explains so much. I'm even more glad I went through the effort of avoiding her. Somehow, I'd rather take a brain fungus..." "I imagine her influence is part of why Lily never thought another Tessier in her care was worth mentioning." There is a definite exhaustion weighing down Lucien's tone here. It softens away when he puts down his glass. "I am also glad. There were times --" He does not finish this. He presses his fingertips hard together, and nods slow and decisive as he picks up his spoon. "Matt can neutralize her long enough that she cannot simply talk her way out of handcuffs another time. And suppression drugs, after that. We can turn the Court around." He takes a first bite, slowly, and dabs light at his lips with his napkin. His look towards Winona is definitely pointed. "We will need to fill our ranks back out. Knights, Rooks -- a new Monarch. Your skills at gathering information are superlative, but -- where do you see yourself on this new board?" "So long as she never misses a dose... Probably best to have someone there keeping a real close eye on her to make sure nothing like that ever happens," says Winona, her eyebrows furrowed still, "And Matt. Will... he have no problem with doing the suppression? I don't know what the lingering effects are, and he seemed all too ready to be the best son in the past." She shakes her head and takes a bite of the stew, taking the time to really savour it and the warmth it provides. "I could look into potential Monarch substitutes, unless you have some candidates in mind? As for me... I think Rook would be a good fit, but I want to be able to access as much information as possible. I know that's a Bishop thing, so..." She shrugs. "I'm not married to strict chess guy roles, though. As long as I get what I need to do the work I'm doing." Lucien's eyes go wide. There is a distinct second or two as he attempts to parse this Not Having Strict Roles business, and he saves himself bluescreening entirely by taking another bite of the stew and fixating on the explosion of flavor. "The roles do help with a certain -- organization," he ventures as mildly as though this is not, in fact, going to break his brain if he dwells on it too long. His fingers have tightened hard around his spoon, and he sets it down deliberately. It takes more effort for him to add: "It is possible that with a new Rook in place our offices could -- work out some more open exchange of information." A bit of red creeps into Winona's cheeks, having recognized that she has committed a faux pas, though not demonstrating any recognition as to what said faux pas even is. She looks aside and takes a bit of a longer drink of the wine and then ventures, "Well. I guess that's totally at the discretion of the Bishop. A more open exchange of information might benefit both roles, though, in some cases." She smiles wanly, "So long as said pieces have a more trusting relationship than what I've seen in the past." Lucien's eyes are downturned for several beats, after this. But eventually he raises them -- though he isn't smiling, there's a recognizable warmth in their small crinkle. He lifts his glass to salute Winona. "I suspect they just might." | |
