AStickySituationDamienIndex | Time Under Chaos | Game Logs | A Sticky Situation | A Sticky Situation Damien The sitting room is as Damien has come to expect of the Ramblin' Queen: Elegant and tastefully decorated. This time in a soothing mix of lavender, pale green and pearl white, the art nouveau decor was strongly influenced by the painting of a foreign garden that hung over the seating the area. The small bar is stocked with a selection of some of the best the Queen's liquor stores have to offer. Though his flesh was presently in the proper number of pieces, Damien knew he'd lost a good deal of blood. He wished to replace his fluids, not become besotten, and he found what he needed near the whiskies. Water. Along with citrus juices, finely granulated sugar, preserved cherries, slices of lemon and lime, a small bowl of exotic nuts-- there was much here which could be useful, and he sated his cravings. He considered pulling a few nails from the boards for iron, but finally reasoned that was a bit excessive. Feeling something more like himself, he considered his options as he dared to sample a sugary desert wine. (Oenofile that he was, he selected the best of the best.) What, he wondered, was he to do about Tear and the others... He had never said a word about family, but that the presumed orphan still had some who he could potentially hazard had a certain appeal, if only because she'd clued him into their existence. Both Delluth -and- Tear had familiars... he could be back at the castle in minutes, dressed in a certain kashfan cloak, and do away with them in moments... or mail them pieces of their beloved canines on a weekly basis. He did not make threats, of course, that was absurd... he had simply laid out the consequences of repeated insult, indeed of obstruction of justice, to Mandor's foolish wayward apprentice. No, he finally decided... Mandor interrogating Goran was close enough to his original intent. That they would call his threats empty was no more relevant than that they felt he was Mandor's Dog... Catspaw, perhaps, but never a Dog... No, there were other ways of dealing with Delluth and Tear. He would have to speak with Ingrey, who'd had the good grace to half go native, or to the less approachable Paloma, he concluded. ... Damien pushed away the final plate, which he had eaten with no regard for proper manners at all. It was a little while later when a tall, dark young man arrived to take away the tray that contained the remains of supper. He seemed properly respectful, but directed a keen glance at Damien; perhaps he had received instructions from the doctor, or had some medical experience himself. Damien had, in the past, heard him addressed as Sergio. "My thanks for the dinner," Damien said as he slid a large platinum disk from his pocket to the tabletop. "I expect you won't take my money... but I shall leave it here, and perhaps after spending time in the lost-and-found it shall make its way into your coffers, no?" Damien asked with a smile. Sergio stiffened; generally, customers paid by account; nothing as vulgar as money was meant to change hands. Then he fractionally paused, and gave a brief nod, his expression not relaxing one iota. "I would offer to cover the damages to the hall... but Goran dropped it on me, so you can take it from his pay if you like" he said, again showing his canines in something like a smile. Sergio gave a faint smile in response. "Goran can be ... determined, si," he agreed. "The meal, it was to your liking? Do you require anything else?" "Yes, of course. Please deliver this to the Prime Minister," Damien said as he placed a sealed bit of parchment on the table beside the coin, then withdrew a card from his vest. "Si, my Lord," said Sergio, with all due respect. He took up the parchment but left the coin lying there, for the moment, departing swiftly. Damien focused on the card in his hand, and strove to forget the man who had created it for him. Soon, he disappeared in a rainbow of light. And found himself in his own private study in his own home. A light was placed by his desk there, and a low fire burned in the grate as it did both day and night by his command. (OOC - I assume) A ring of the bell on his desk would bring Turlough to the room. [EoT] |
