paradisalogs | (no subject)

Entry tags:

(no subject)

Who: Joshua and Lucrezia
What: Storytelling time!
When: Wednesday, May 9
Where: Lucrezia's room
Rating: PG so far~

They needed pillows. Many, many plush pillows. She had always pictured Scheherazade and the king of kings stretched out on mounds of ornate cushions and soft Persian carpets, though she couldn't decide if they would have tea with their stories or not. Perhaps they drank stranger things, like coffee, berries. This time though they would have tea with their tales, for her newest friend.

Earl Grey was not a tea she was familiar with. It smelled more like oranges than the sour scent of tea. As requested, however, there was one pot brewing only for Joshua, a dish of sliced lemons and a pot of sugar beside it, set out on a tiny stool drowned out by the many colored pillows. She would be satisfied enough with the stories, and her own small cup of bitter tea.

Sweetness could mask something dangerous, she was told.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

It was tempting to use the window like he'd grown accustomed to over the past several months, but he was growing tired of putting so much effort into avoidance. What did he care if someone saw him? Many seemed content to leave him alone for now, and the others he could handle easily. Frankly, he was itching for a fight. The only thing that stilled his hand was that nobody had really started one, and he wasn't a mindless beast.

At least one of his previous 'enemies' currently lived across from the girl he was visiting. Katara hadn't proven to be a threat, though, and time had soothed her easily enough. But he wasn't here to visit her today, as fun as it was to play cards or mess around on the piano. The promise of tea and intelligent conversation was more promising, so he turned and knocked on Lucrezia's door.

Joshua hoped this turned out to be fun, but it was always precarious when meeting anyone new. Most of the time, as soon as anything went wrong, they fled. This one claimed to be stronger than most, but who knew?

A good story was the perfect way to find out.

Lucrezia may or may not have spent a copious amount of time settling the folds of her dress among the cushions, patting down any unsightly bulges on her skirt and pulling up more aesthetically pleasing ones. She allowed herself a few vanities, along with her numerous gowns and pearl-studded hairnets, but not this one. Not today.

She quickly jumped to her feet at the sound of a knock and hurried to the door, not wanting to make her guest wait at all. There were stories to be told and she had not given up entirely on a possible reconciliation between Joshua and Uru. That would make for a productive day enough to do away with one vanity.

It took her only a couple of seconds to reach the knob and turn it with the widest smile plastered on her face. "Joshua!" She saw absolutely no need to tone down her excitement, stepping back to allows him to step in. "I was beginning to worry the stairs proved too much of a hurdle."

The enthusiasm was unexpected, and nearly caused him to start. It had been a long while since anyone had greeted him with such a smile, and so he couldn't help but smile back. Indeed she was a princess playing her part, no matter what she had said over the journal.

Amused, Joshua stepped into the room, glancing around in apparent disinterest, but ever taking in the sights. Escape routes, traps, possible weapons, interesting artifacts, or books... These were things he looked for out of habit, in barely a glance, before turning and settling his gaze back on her. His gaze became cool and distant again, though the smile was still amiable.

"Don't worry, I'm not a frog anymore. I can handle stairs."

The part became her, more a treasured daughter than a princess but was it so different? She operated on the premise that everyone would love her as dearly as her family did. She never knew otherwise, until her husband, but that was a tale for another day.

Lucrezia closed the door after him, hovering some distance behind him to let him take in his surroundings. The room had touches of her quarters in Rome laid over the castle's bland choice of decoration, with windows of blurred glass lined with metal, instead of the unnervingly clear ones, and draped with heavy fabric to keep out the glare. The floors and walls were left as they were, plain white, for now. She had few books, only one large volume placed on a ragged table, delicately bound and illuminated.

An imposing bed took up much space, laid out on a knee-high platform and wide enough for five, with gold and white sheets and one too many pillows. She walked ahead of him to gesture at the tiny stool with his request laid out, biting back her smile and waiting for approval. "I hope you have your taste for tea back as well."

Joshua's lips twitched a bit at the arrangement of pillows surrounding the stool. From amusement or irritation, it could be hard to tell. But he nodded regardless, and glanced over the condiments offered up.

"I asked for milk, not lemon." His tone was casual, but he remained standing. Watching and waiting to see what sort of response she might have, Joshua's smile remained.

He had asked for lemon.

Lucrezia stepped aside and took her seat among her nest of cushions some distance away from where she meant for him to sit, patting down her skirt so it would not puff out so high.

At his statement though, she squinted her eyes slightly, as if thinking--she was not so forgetful as to mistake milk for lemons, so perhaps he changed his mind or perhaps he was just difficult to please. By intention or not, she couldn't yet tell, so she assumed the best.

"My mistake," she opened her palm up like preparing for a magic trick, an amused smile on her lips. "Milk, please." And voila, a tiny jug of warmed milk. She chuckled to herself as she leaned over to rest it on Joshua's special stool. "Is there anything else you need, storyteller?"

He watched her expression curiously, the wheels obviously turning. And while Joshua could occasionally hear thoughts, it wasn't a switch he could turn on or off, and on good days it wasn't an issue unless someone's thoughts turned terrible.

Joshua suddenly wished he could know what she was thinking, but whatever it was, she suddenly decided to concede without question. His smile faded, disappointment flickering in his eyes before vanishing all-together.

Shaking his head, Joshua sat down across from her and reaching to put a small slice of lemon into the cup, along with a couple spoonfuls of sugar. He really didn't want milk in the tea, so that was left alone.

"I think I'm all right for now. So... What kind of story would you like to hear?"

It took much to upset Lucrezia, even in the slightest, and near impossible to do so and then have her remember it in the days to come. Any hatred was reserved for the very few who have, in her reckoning, taken something that could not be returned. Sins even the Pope would not forgive.

She did watch him curiously as he took the lemon and left the milk alone, a little amused and trying to guess at his intentions. It seemed strange to want to upset one's host on purpose, or perhaps--she smiled a little wider at the realization, almost a smirk--he wanted to see if she was level-headed enough to stomach the stories he was about to tell.

"The ones not for the faint of heart."

"Right, of course."

That lent itself to quite a large number of stories, though, all of varying degrees of horrific, sad, or even exciting. But they had previously been discussing thing's he'd actually experienced, or knew to be true. Joshua wasn't sure if she remembered that detail, and he wouldn't mind sticking to that standard, but he was unsure what was really okay to share. Some things weren't meant to be shared with anyone outside of the Sinners. Then again, if Aion wanted to keep better tabs on him, then he should have shown up in Paradisa years ago.

Pondering over this internal debate, he absently murmurs, "You wanted me to tell you a true story?"

Lucrezia picked up her own cup of tea daintily, resting the bottom on her palm, and leaned back on the pillows. More than ready for a thousand nights of stories, or something along those lines. She remembered few details, only the ones she thought particularly interesting (and fewer still of the ones she felt were upsetting). She took a small sip of her tea and smiled.

"I have been told that stories can still be true without ever happening," but that was only unnecessarily cryptic. "I would have you tell me any stories you wish, Joshua."

His lips pressed more tightly together at her cryptic together, as if withholding a smile. ...Not normally something he bothers to do, but he would hate to ruin the set-up mood for a tragic tale just because he found her commentary amusing.

Joshua couldn't yet find the pillows very comfortable, and he didn't feel like re-arranging them, so he sat up and tested the tea, draping one arm across the edge of the stool. His gaze moves from her to an unimportant spot on the wall as he tries to recall something. It's a bit of a struggle.

"When I was eleven, I discovered a tomb with my sister in the woods. The matron had warned us about it, but I hadn't believed her at the time. It was deep underground, in a catacomb... And it was locked behind a magnificent door. I broke the seal, and inside was a—"

Joshua's eyes hardened, and he considered for a moment before continuing. "A man guarding a tomb. The tomb belonged to a saint named Mary Magdalene. I didn't realize it at the time, of course, but I learned of it later. Do you want to know how she died?"

Lucrezia took another sip of her tea as he tested his, a way of hiding how she was glancing his way to make sure that he was pleased with the lemons and the sugar. She was always eager to please, but it was even more important that her honorable guest was more than happy with his visit, if he was about to tell her wonderful stories.

Setting her cup on the stool, she shifted among her pillows so she could watch him carefully as he began. She had never seen catacombs before so she pictured dark tunnels hewed in stone, with water leaking from the ceilings and leaving orange trails like wounds along the walls. And Joshua's sister must look much like him, perhaps a little prettier. She smiled to herself at the thought and tried to subdue it for the sake of the story's mood.

She rested her chin on her hand and kept watching him, her own gaze turning to a question at the mention of Mary Magdalene. She knew her bible well enough to know her story, washing the feet with perfume, the prostitute turned saint. "Did she suffer for her faith?"

At that, Joshua laughed rather abruptly, setting his own cup down so it didn't spill. He thought on faith, and what it brought about. The decimation of souls in truth. Her inquiry makes him think of Joan of Arc almost, and he wonders if she's heard that story, too.

Whatever version Lucrezia was probably imagining in regards to Mary was certainly not the same one Joshua wanted to tell, and he knew that. He knew the Bible like the back of his hand. He didn't even have to twist the stories... They were backwards enough on their own. Just another epic fairy-tale.

"In a way. But not for her faith in God. I don't know how much she thought of that, but her real downfall came because of her faith in Demons. That's...what the man guarding her tomb really was, you see.

She was known as the Holy Maiden, and a prophet."

'Apostle' was the word Joshua wanted to use, but explaining what the Apostles actually were would be another story. Again, not the kind she would most likely think of off the top of her head.

"She was taken by a group of demons known as the Sinners, but instead of being a hostage, she chose to help them on their quest. They were almost like a family for some time, traveling and looking after one another. She didn't judge them because they were demons, but must have seen they were just exiles who needed a home."

Oh, but she has. Lucrezia has read almost all the stories there were about saints and martyrs, the men who would let their flesh burn than denounce their god, the women who would slice open their throats before they would let any man defile her. Her name was one such, though the virgin Lucretia of Rome was never declared a saint, she would always think of her as such. And Mary Magdalene, the prostitute, may be her least favorite of the saints though it made it no easier to listen to her apparent dalliances with demons.

"Kindness, then, was her downfall?" She reached for her cup of tea because some hot beverage might comfort her from such thoughts as saints not being holy at all. That would be close to blasphemy. Yet perhaps this was an allegory and the sinners were only humans, sinful humans surely, yet Mary Magdalene was the one who knew enough of being lowly that she would stoop to help them walk closer to saintliness. Yes, that made more sense and was more comfortable. "What were the Sinners' purpose for their quest, Joshua? Were they searching for something? A home, perhaps?"

Shaking his head, he thought again how best to word it. There didn't need to be unnecessary details are unnecessary names... In truth, Aion had only recalled this event to him vaguely, to signify the importance of their mission, and their past sacrifices. The rest Joshua had pieced together himself from history books, his own imagination, and of course the horns... The horns of the demon that was truly responsible for the death of Mary Magdalene.

Joshua had always wondered if one of the voices raking inside his brain might be hers. He hated Chrono all the more for causing him such pain.

He didn't linger on that, though, but it wasn't any fun. This was, if precarious. But games were never fun if they were safe, wasn't that right?

"Kindness is a downfall when given blindly. Which is just another form of faith, you see? Even if it was her downfall, it was a strength for them. They knew what it was to be accepted again thanks to her, a human who understood life and didn't fear death.

They would have loved to find a home, but they couldn't rest for such a thing. They'd been exiled from their true home, having turned on their tyrant queen that had been controlling all of them. She was meant to be dead, but they were pursued endlessly.

Magdalene was a means to an end, but she knew that, and she helped them willingly. She could manipulate a power that could free them for eternity, but it backfired."

Edited 2012-05-20 13:27 (UTC)

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only