blood and booze [viri]

[Desgevell]

Desgevell beat his mug on the table angrily.

Ignoring a startled glare from the bartender, he put his index and middle fingers to the newly gouged cut above his left eyebrow. He winced slightly at the sting but was indifferent to the drop of scarlet at the tips of his fingers. It was only a scratch, although he tended to dismiss most battle wounds as scratches. Glancing down at his arm, crisscrossed with pinker flesh against the tanned skin there, he decided that some scratches were worse than others.

“Vell, I think that you’ve had too many drinks.”

The bartender had recovered from his jumpiness and now leaned forward, a smile on his sickly pale face, attempting to smooth over the situation. Other patrons had noticed the aggressive demeanor exuding from the muscular warrior and were casting worried glances over at him. Ever since he had stepped angrily into the tavern, demanding beer, people had been trickling out slowly but surely to escape the threat.

“Fuck off, Renold.”

The auburn-haired man turned and stood up. He cast the mug off to one side and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Somehow this motion triggered an impulse in him, causing him to run his fingers through his messy hair and wipe more blood that curved a thin rivulet down his cheek. The lieutenant knew, without some damn server telling him, that he had better things to do besides sitting back and drinking liquor. That simply left little else unless he was under orders. And Vell without orders was prone to random acts of violence.

Like his latest victim realized. He forgot the name, just the aggravating face curled into a sneer, before it was red with blood. One nosebleed and a black eye later, the unruly follower learned his place. He had simply left a small gift with his knife during the struggle before realizing who the hell he was fighting and giving up.

Not knowing whether to grimace or smirk at the thought, Desgevell stepped across the wood floors of the tavern to reach for the door handle. He jumped with a curse when it opened inward, nearly striking him, and stared at the newcomer.

[Virisca]

VIRISCA

Virisca fancied a vodka on ice, just the thing to liven up an otherwise uneventful day in Arincta. The empress enjoyed this little seaside town as a change of pace from the busy, smoggy city of Nocni. Here, she could go to the local pub without being accosted be hundreds of adoring followers and the occasional would-be assassin. Arincta was much more peaceful and the people of the town tended to simply stare at her in reverence rather than approach her and beg to kiss her hand. And besides, they made the best vodka in Ysera here.

With a smirk on her lips, Virisca strode through the bustling dirt streets of the town. Her long black robes trailed behind her and her heavy black boots created large, deep footprints in the dusty road as she strode confidently towards her favorite pub. A dagger was loosely held in her pale hand as she walked through Arincta. Though she doubted anyone would attempt to attack her here, she couldn’t be too careful. Besides, she had already done away with bodyguards, deeming them unnecessary in such a small peasant town.

Soon she came to her destination and threw the door open confidently, stepping through with an aura of prowess emanating from her strong, regal form. There was no doubt that this was a woman of great power and renown. The bartender stared at her as if he had just seen a ghost as she stepped inside. Her blue eyes narrowed in confusion and annoyance at the expression on his face until she realized who else was there.

Vell.

With a bloody face, no less. That was a big surprise. Annoyance turned to anger and Virisca strode up to her lieutenant with a deep scowl on her face. He was taller than her by quite a few inches, but that didn’t stop the Empress from reaching up to grab his hard by the back of the neck and painfully push his head down so it was level with hers. With her fingernails digging into the skin on the back of his neck, she leaned close to his ear to hiss a warning, “Dear Vell, I do believe you have better things to be doing than getting in another brawl. And besides, you are now inhibiting my ability to have a drink in peace.”

[Desgevell]

Desgevell blinked, hazel eyes widening a fraction with surprise. He hadn’t been expecting the Empress of Chaos on the other side of that door.

The dark-haired woman reacted more quickly to his presence than he did to hers. He usually prided himself in being prepared for anything, ready with a hasty answer or, more often, swift counterattack. However, the shock of seeing her—here, no less—overrode any of his usual promptness. He didn’t have the mind to react as she reached up to sink her nails into his neck and drag him to eye level, a gesture that, he resentfully noted, put him immediately into his place.

Well, that fucked his reputation effectively enough that he couldn’t show his face in this tavern ever again.

Virisca was unnervingly close, her voice low but with all the strength it needed for its purposes, as she admonished him for his fight. A smirk was threatening to turn up the corner of his mouth, and a bit of his teeth showed when she mentioned he was getting in the way of a peaceful drink. After her warning had trailed away, he reached back to gently unhook her claws from his neck, praying that this action would be met with no resistance since she’d already made her point.

“Brawl is such an unbefitting, barbaric word,” the man murmured, his gruff voice soft as he didn’t bother to correct the proximity between them. “I was simply putting a follower in his place for his impudence.” He smirked slightly in an attempt to look careless. “Now how would I keep you from drinking quietly as you wanted, Your Majesty? Would I distract you?” He then moved a step or two away—with certain quickness in case she decided to retaliate.

Not that he would be able to touch her if she chose to pummel him for his attitude.

[Virisca]

VIRISCA

Vell removed Virisca’s fingers from where they held his neck and she let him without protest. She had made her point quite clear; the show of authority was no longer needed. She gave him a careless smirk now as he stayed just as close to her as she had been to hiss in his ear. The smirk deepened at the lieutenant spoke.

“Brawl is such an unbefitting, barbaric word.”

“Really, now? Well then, pray tell what you would prefer in its stead, dear Vell. Because I can think of nothing less fitting for something that results in a cut on your face and the blood of another on your hand.” Her voice was still low, but the dangerous edge had been replaced with a sarcastic tone very typical of the empress. Her eyes were partially closed in a carefree, arrogant expression as she observed her lieutenant who was still ridiculously close to her.

“Now how would I keep you from drinking quietly as you wanted, Your Majesty? Would I distract you?”

Now he stepped away, apparently expected a blow. But he received something much different. Virisca raised one black eyebrow before laughing sardonically. Her deep blue eyes glimmered with her typical dark amusement as she took another step towards him. “You think too highly of yourself. Renold here is more of a looker than you, Scarface,” she motioned to the bartender with a sweeping movement but didn’t take her gaze off Desgevell. Her pinks lips were still curved in a smirk. “I’d have to have quite a few vodkas before I’d get distracted by you.”

With a toss of her head, no doubt hitting the man in the face with her long hair, Virisca turned and made her way to the bar to take a seat. She glanced back at her lieutenant, fully expecting him to follow her. Well, she was in a good mood today. Exchanging insults with Vell could be mildly entertaining. The Empress turned her attention to Renold and requested a vodka from the startled bartender. She sat and waited for Desgevell to join her.

[Desgevell]

A smirk was spreading across the empress’s lips at first careless before it became heavily sardonic as she answered his remark coolly. He raised an eyebrow as she continued to address him as “dear Vell” though he wasn’t going to let that get to him; he usually used condescending names for others, and she wasn’t much of an exception. He could take what he could dish out. Some of the arrogant challenge that had been welling in him receded as his small and mocking grin faded. “I could have taken someone from another Order hostage,” he responded calmly, though his hand curled shut at mention of it.

Her laughter startled him before he decided that’s what he should have expected from her. As much as he would prefer to not hang around her enough to understand her personality, anyone who relatively knew her understood the dark and sometimes cruel humor she possessed. Laughing at his expense would probably sate her mood. All the better, so she isn’t causing a scene, he thought to himself, privately relieved that she wasn’t going to use violence on him and prove him even less capable than her earlier demonstration.

“You think too highly of yourself,” Virisca proclaimed as she approached him. After comparing his looks to the bartender’s—he couldn’t help but glance over his shoulder at the perpetually startled man—she added, “I’d have to have quite a few vodkas before I’d get distracted by you.”

Flaunting her hair so that it stung across his face, the empress strode to the bar to get her drink. He was in the middle of rolling his eyes before he noticed her blue ones set on him in silent expectation. Realizing she wanted him to accompany her—or at least wasn’t going to object—he smirked charmingly. “Let’s get started with that then,” he muttered half to himself as he walked over to take a seat. Not caring for anything extravagant or especially hard, he ordered a beer and smiled at the woman. It was an ambiguous grin, able to be taken just about any way, but he didn’t mind. Bothering her would be fun; he was pretty good at playing innocent when it came to pestering others, since he did it under the guise of politeness.

“How are your duties going, Your Majesty?” the auburn-haired lieutenant asked, as if he cared or if he thought she would want to talk about the sometimes dull schedule that a leader must follow. It made him—extremely briefly and with disgust afterward—glad that he wasn’t in the position of emperor. What he would do with such a title he had little idea, but it was something he had set his mind on once he obtained his rank and something he wasn’t going to give up on easily. “Are there any brawls around the castle?” He smirked and then glanced away from her face when Renold returned with their drinks.

Taking a sip of the beer, Vell scowled suddenly and shook his head. “Actually, give me something hard.”

[Virisca]

VIRISCA

Virisca cocked her head to one side, the ever-present smirk upon her pale face in response to Vell’s ambiguous grin. What was in that smile? Virisca found she didn’t trust a smiling Desgevell and the smirk deepened ever so slightly. Yes, this was going to be an interesting day. But, as always, she’d come out on top. Vell was too loyal to try to truly beat her.

“How are your duties going, Your Majesty?”

Her response to that terribly boring, uninteresting question came promptly and laden with sarcasm. “Well let’s see,” she placed a finger to her chin and turned her eyes skyward in mock concentration. “Incredibly average,” she decided with a sardonic grin. She laughed a little at his next question. “I was wondering what was wrong with you, Vell. Asking me about my duties, that’s not you. Brawls? I think the cooks got in a fight today. A server-boy claims one of them got pushed into the fire, but I’m not sure I believe him.”

Their drinks came and the empress took a long drink from her glass, slow and steady, savoring the harsh, crisp taste of the clear liquid and the burn as it went down her throat. She set the glass down, now half empty and licked her lips before smirking in distaste at her lieutenant. “Beer? Really? I would think on your budget you’d be able to afford something a bit more… extravagant.” Yet, just as she was speaking those mocking words, Vell was requesting something harder.

Virisca laughed. “Wow. This is a strange new occurrence. Shall I document it in the royal logs? ‘Vell finally develops a taste for liquor.’” She threw her head back and drained the rest of her glass in one gulp then requested another from Renold. The vodka was stronger than usual, she could tell already.

Oh yes, this would be an interesting day.

[Desgevell]

The empress’s response was incredibly sarcastic as she pretended to look contemplative, telling him an answer that he already knew. If anything different was happening in the Land of Chaos, he was sure, in his position, to have already heard about it. When his more taunting question was answered with a laugh, however, it caused him to scowl slightly. Virisca answered regardless, and at the thought of one of the cooks being pushed into a fire, he had to grin a little bit.

“Was it Jatt?” If one didn’t know any better, Desgevell might have sounded cheerful. “Because Vynikani knows that bastard deserved it.”

His hazel eyes flicked to her with interest as she guzzled down her vodka, before she taunted him on his choice of alcohol. It was her next remark, however, that elicited a response from him. Just about anyone who knew the lieutenant knew how much he denounced alcohol, though he was entirely a hypocrite for it.

He scowled heavily at her remark and said in defense, “It’s a once in a while thing.” A smirk finally crossed his rugged features again as he added pointedly, “Besides, I need it. I’m going to be dealing with you for the next half hour or so.” He waited until the drinks came around again and finished a substantial amount of it in a single draught. Eventually, he could tell, they were going to get drunk off their asses and attempt to insult each other, slurred words, blurred logic, and all.

The thought made Vell laugh. “How intoxicated do you plan on getting, Virisca?” His eyes narrowed as he took quick sweep around the bar, though only a few people were left and none of them looked especially shady. “I might have to escort you back to the palace. Don’t want an assassin targeting you.”

Vynikani save the poor bastard who did.

[Virisca]

VIRISCA

The next vodka came and Virisca drained this one too in one satisfying gulp. She smiled faintly and looked at Vell as he asked if Jatt was the cook involved in the fight. The empress shrugged, “I didn’t bother to ask. I was on my way out when he told me and I didn’t want to have to deal with angry cooks.” Another vodka came, unasked for. Renald knew her well. She smirked but didn’t drink it, not yet.

“Besides, I need it. I’m going to be dealing with you for the next half hour or so.”

“Only a half hour? Is that a lack of faith in my alcohol tolerance or your own?” she laughed and picked up her glass, swirling the clear, thick liquid inside. “Because I think the one who typically just drinks beer would have more problems, eh? I’m a seasoned drinker, Vell, I’ll still be here after a half-hour.” She grinned and took a drink of her third vodka, savoring it before swallowing it.

“Make the next one rum, Renald,” she told the bartender with a very uncharacteristic smile. Virisca was a happy drunk. And that scared people far more than her typical personality. They preferred the angry, yelling empress they were used to. She ran her fingers through her long black hair and turned dark blue eyes to Vell as he asked how intoxicated she planned on getting.

“Hmm…” she twirled her hair around her finger, thinking about that question. “Very, that’s all I know.” She laughed at his next comment and nearly spilled the glass of vodka. “Dear Vell, you seem to be under the assumption I’m returned to the palace tonight. Why would I want to do that? There’s a lovely inn right across the street.”

She drank the rest of her vodka and was promptly given a glass of coconut flavored rum. “What about you, lieutenant? You going to drink until you pass out or what?”

[Desgevell]

Alcohol plus empress equated happiness, evidently.

It was slightly unnerving but at the same time relieved him. Her caustic humor in turn amused him, but without the impending threat of getting attacked, he could enjoy it so much more. His frustration at the insubordinate follower had faded just as the cut on his forehead dried, though his neck still stung a bit. Rubbing it, he watched her accept more alcohol. She laughed and grinned, bragging on being a seasoned drinker as she took yet another swig, causing him to smirk deeply.

“It was more of a question on your tolerance to my company,” Vell pointed out. Sipping his own second drink, he looked her over appreciatively and shook his head. It was obvious enough now that she wasn’t going to be staggering or passing out, though how she was affected mentally and emotionally seemed to be showing in her rare, positive and almost cheery demeanor. “I’ve no doubt for your love of alcohol, Your Highness, or your ability to absorb it without consequence.”

The smiling was starting to freak him out, though he didn’t let this show on his face. When drunk, his own nature didn’t change as much. He resumed looking out into space more calmly now, drinking more slowly. He grunted in amusement as she professed, confidently, just how drunk she was going to get. Hazel eyes flickering as she nearly dumped the glass, he raised a brow at her mention of the inn before the rest of his thought process inevitably followed. Blinking, he turned back to the bartender.

“Now I’ll have what she’s having.”

The next rounds came as Virisca addressed him. “What about you, lieutenant? You going to drink until you pass out or what?”

He shrugged and smirked, flashing his teeth. The idea hadn’t completely crossed his mind, but by this point it seemed like an interesting plan. “Perhaps,” he responded vaguely. “Hard telling what will happen until I lose consciousness, though.” His tone was still ambiguous until he sighed and set his glass down on the table again.

“Things have been peaceful lately,” he remarked, in a somewhat disappointed tone. “You planning anything chaotic or just relaxing and waiting this out?” He turned his head to examine the west walls, as if he could catch a glimpse of the other two alliances in this town farthest from the borders.

[Virisca]

VIRISCA

Virisca took a sip of her coconut rum. It was smoother and less bitter than the vodka but also less alcoholic. It was just a completely different drink all together despite the deceptive similarities between the two. She leaned back a little, wishing she was in a chair rather than on a bar stool. There was nothing to lean back against which was not advantageous when one was drunk and she was still sober enough to realize this. “I’m moving to that booth. I’m going to make a fool of myself if I don’t,” she muttered to her lieutenant before standing and swaggering to the indicated booth. It was nothing more than a pair of wooden benches with a table between them. But, these wooden benches had high backs. Much better.

She waited for Vell to join her before thinking about the unanswered question he had asked. Was she planning anything? Was she? Virisca narrowed her eyes slightly, concentrating. She took another drink of rum, mainly to stall. “Well, all we have to do is wait two years, right? Then the Vysec will happen and the other two Orders will be destroyed. So all I have to do is wait. But, I might stir up a little chaos while I wait. I dunno yet,” her words were beginning to slur and her mind was beginning to dull from the alcohol. She took another drink. “Renald better come over here soon,” she muttered after she drained her glass. She knew she needed no more alcohol, but she wanted more. How often did she drink anyway? This was a rare treat.

“So, Vell, what chaos do you propose?” she asked, attempting to sound normal and business-like. Of course, she pretty much completely failed.

[Desgevell]

The empress declared that she was moving over to a booth, leaving him at the bar until, once again, her silent expectancy showed that he should probably follow her. Smirking slightly, knowing that he would never be so amused at her company if sober, he came over to settle down on the bench and lean back, folding his arms behind his head as she thought of an answer to his question. “Well, all we have to do is wait two years, right?” she said, causing him to raise a brow in confusion before she mentioned the fabled Vysec, the end of the world.

He kept his expression carefully controlled, not daring to say anything. To any follower, he would have scoffed, but in front of his religious leader, keeping his skepticism to a minimum would be the more intelligent option. He could see the world continuing for hundreds of years to come, until Chaos was the one and only power. The strength of the gods was in the past, and their duels in the sky couldn’t have much of an effect on the world below. He didn’t see much of it mirrored here.

Vell smirked when she drained her glass and glanced pointedly over at the bar; Renold coughed quietly and came over with the drinks, filling the glasses to the brim, as if that would spare him making another trip so soon. The lieutenant doubted it. Vaguely he wondered just how much money they were going to be spending or if there was an empress discount on the alcohol.

“So, Vell, what chaos do you propose?”

She would have sounded serious, asking for his council, if not for the fact that her words were slurred. Laughing quietly, the man shrugged his muscular shoulders. “Burning villages. Kidnapping children.” He smirked and shook his head slightly. “Well, you know anything I propose will be violent. Anything sounds better than waiting for two years or more.”

“You two the reason it’s taking so long to serve everyone else in the bar?”

Desgevell grunted and looked up, scrutinizing the scraggly-looking man who had approached their booth. The stranger had an argumentative expression and was opening his mouth to add another complaint before his eyes flicked to the woman. “Empress Virisca,” he purred suddenly. “What are you doing around here?” He staggered closer until the lieutenant slipped easily off the bench to grab the man’s shoulder.

“I would suggest you go sit back down,” the auburn-haired man said, before the other bar patron squirmed violently in his grasp and drew his arm up to punch. Vell snatched the fist sloppily thrown at his face, jerking the limb down and digging his elbow into the back of the man’s neck. The guy reeled, trying to rise to strike back, but a bunch to the face had him sprawled on the ground.

Vell sat down and sipped his drink calmly. He didn’t say anything, but he wouldn’t deny the fact that his actions had entirely been showing off.

[Virisca]

VIRISCA

Virisca watched intently as Renold refilled her glass. The clear liquid was right at the brim of the glass. Simply a disaster waiting to happen. Sure enough, when the empress reached out to pick the too-full glass up it tipped and spilled sticky alcohol all over the wooden table. “Shit!” she exclaimed, attempting to stop the progress of the puddle that had formed. The majority of the rum was still in her glass, but there was a sizeable amount on the table as well as her robes. Virisca was in the process of trying to clean her robes and cursing violently when a strange man came over to their table.

He asked something she didn’t quite catch with a gleam of anger in his eyes and a want for argument on his voice. The empress’s eyes narrowed and shot daggers at the man. Did he realize who he was speaking to? Apparently not until he turned his eyes to look at her and his face changed completely. Virisca continued to glare blackly. Then, he tried to flirt with her. She stood abruptly; still sober enough to be entirely pissed off. She was about to start yelling profanities at the idiot but Vell grabbed the man’s shoulder before she could speak.

“I would suggest you go sit back down.” her lieutenant said before aiming a punch at the man’s face. Virisca laughed and sat back down. This time she wouldn’t reprimand Desgevell for his “brawling.” The rum was still there, spilled across the table and seeping into the cracks in the wood but the empress hardly noticed. She was looking at Vell and smirking heavily.

“How cute, you’re protecting your empress from scraggly drunk guys,” she taunted. Her eyes glimmered with humor, though, and her lips were curved in something between a smile and a smirk. She knew he was showing off, but all the same it meant she didn’t have to deal with the man. And, it had been a good show.