Infuriating!
Beside himself with rage the young Mekhet paced the hallway with short, brisk steps. The new heels on his shoes clacked on the marble floors as he did so, echoing through the silent gallery with occasional unintentional bursts of preternatural speed. With his hands behind him one fist smacked rhythmically against an open palm. In his anger he lashed out and only just stopped himself from destroying a vase on a nearby pedestal.
His patron was an idiot. He had great personal power, obviously, but he was blind to the assets their relationship could provide. His was the club, and a heavy club, thus the scalpel that the Shadow wielded so expertly went unappreciated.
His trained ears, sharper than any human’s, heard the patron’s footsteps much earlier than the elder Invictus would’ve preferred but it couldn’t be helped. He could not apologize for what he was, nor would he. It was unacceptable to continue this way, to be treated so -
“Stare fermi,” the patron said, and the supernatural power of the oath that bound them brought the Mekhet’s feet to a stop. “Inginocchiati,” he said, and the same power brought the younger Invictus to his knees.
“Sembra che ancora una volta dobbiamo discutere questioni di rispetto e di protocollo...” the elder began, but the younger tuned him out. This elder was deserving of respect; his many years and experiences had earned him that. But the man was still a fool. To be so self-righteous, so self-aggrandizing, these were mere minor character flaws. But to treat a fellow Unconquered as lesser, regardless of difference in age or standing, was...unseemly at best.
Vaguely listening to the old fool’s babble, he who would one day become Lord Quinn of House Quinn swore that when he was the ancient things would be different.
Sunday, January 19, 2014
Saturday, January 18, 2014
1823 - Cut the Thread
Unto the Most Honorable Second Marquis Desmarais,
We were most disheartened to receive word of the death of your sire, the First Marquis Desmarais. Our memories of that great Lord, and the respect we bear both him and his line, will live forever even though he is sadly lost.
We recall the years of your youth and your introduction to the Invictus and it was our honor to stand beside your sire at your time of manumission. Though we have not been to Versailles, and Paris, in seventy-four years, we are gratified to know that you have continued to flourish there. In your letter, sent earlier this year by courier, you wrote of assets at the palace and some measure of control over the Chamberlain of the King. We know it can be difficult to stand tall in the shadow of an elder and you are to be congratulated for achieving so much.
It had not been our intention to respond to your request for political assistance at all. However, our great respect for your sire, and for you, has led us to reply. Furthermore, your sire died while still in a state of trivial prestation with us. Despite our inability to provide the assistance you require,we hope this letter will resolve our obligation adequately.
There exists, in this country right now, an animus against enhanced interaction with other sovereign nations. Its ruler, the President James Monroe, has recently offered a personal doctrine to the nation which has been readily accepted by its citizens. He has promised them that there will be no attempts at colonization, nor any peaceful acceptance of related actions by outsiders. We of House Quinn have supported this most vocally; we feel it is in keeping with the finest principles of the Invictus. The first and greatest respect is self-respect, and we feel that this American Experiment, the desire to create a country from sand and determination, embodies that ideal.
Regrettably, however, this has earned us many enemies abroad.
We would be pleased to offer you our assistance, but we have little left in the way of political capital with Versailles. Against our will, our ties there have been severed. In earnest, we were surprised to learn that you and the Desmarais line were still willing to correspond with us. We take it as a sign of friendship, and a welcome one. If there is anything else we can do to be of assistance please feel invited to petition. If you ever travel to the wilds of America, to the frontier we currently call home, we will be glad to offer hospitality. But as for your request we are simply unable to comply.
Lord Quinn
House Quinn
We were most disheartened to receive word of the death of your sire, the First Marquis Desmarais. Our memories of that great Lord, and the respect we bear both him and his line, will live forever even though he is sadly lost.
We recall the years of your youth and your introduction to the Invictus and it was our honor to stand beside your sire at your time of manumission. Though we have not been to Versailles, and Paris, in seventy-four years, we are gratified to know that you have continued to flourish there. In your letter, sent earlier this year by courier, you wrote of assets at the palace and some measure of control over the Chamberlain of the King. We know it can be difficult to stand tall in the shadow of an elder and you are to be congratulated for achieving so much.
It had not been our intention to respond to your request for political assistance at all. However, our great respect for your sire, and for you, has led us to reply. Furthermore, your sire died while still in a state of trivial prestation with us. Despite our inability to provide the assistance you require,we hope this letter will resolve our obligation adequately.
There exists, in this country right now, an animus against enhanced interaction with other sovereign nations. Its ruler, the President James Monroe, has recently offered a personal doctrine to the nation which has been readily accepted by its citizens. He has promised them that there will be no attempts at colonization, nor any peaceful acceptance of related actions by outsiders. We of House Quinn have supported this most vocally; we feel it is in keeping with the finest principles of the Invictus. The first and greatest respect is self-respect, and we feel that this American Experiment, the desire to create a country from sand and determination, embodies that ideal.
Regrettably, however, this has earned us many enemies abroad.
We would be pleased to offer you our assistance, but we have little left in the way of political capital with Versailles. Against our will, our ties there have been severed. In earnest, we were surprised to learn that you and the Desmarais line were still willing to correspond with us. We take it as a sign of friendship, and a welcome one. If there is anything else we can do to be of assistance please feel invited to petition. If you ever travel to the wilds of America, to the frontier we currently call home, we will be glad to offer hospitality. But as for your request we are simply unable to comply.
Lord Quinn
House Quinn
Monday, January 13, 2014
1871/2014 - I Consign Thee to the Flames
In 2014, Lord Quinn stands and looks up at the flames engulfing the building.
In 1871, Lord Quinn stands and looks up at the flames engulfing the building.
No one sees him, but he sees all. He sees the brave one, dashing up the stairs. He will learn much.
No one sees him, but he sees only the burning building. He sees the coward, running into the building against his will at the urging of his master. He will die.
He sees the cautious one, and wrinkles his nose with disdain. He takes a moment to consider the trespasser and watches him fly away.
He sees his other self through his mind’s eye and feels genuine fear for the first time in centuries. He realizes what is coming and unconsciously begins to shake his head ‘no.’
Something deep within him insists he draw no closer to the flames, but he swats that fear away. He is impervious to harm.
Something deep within him insists he draw no closer to the flames, and that fear almost consumes him. The flames will destroy him like dry paper.
The raging blaze quiets, and he moves inside. Someone has attacked his home and he will know who.
The raging blaze will not quiet for days, and the cost will be terrible. Something has done him irreparable harm and there is nothing he can do to stop it.
Inside, he sees and feels much. He obtains the valuable clues he needs. He goes back to report.
Outside, he sees and feels too much. He feels the horrible, unimaginable thing happen. He goes back to report.
In 1871, Lord Quinn stands and looks up at the flames engulfing the building.
No one sees him, but he sees all. He sees the brave one, dashing up the stairs. He will learn much.
No one sees him, but he sees only the burning building. He sees the coward, running into the building against his will at the urging of his master. He will die.
He sees the cautious one, and wrinkles his nose with disdain. He takes a moment to consider the trespasser and watches him fly away.
He sees his other self through his mind’s eye and feels genuine fear for the first time in centuries. He realizes what is coming and unconsciously begins to shake his head ‘no.’
Something deep within him insists he draw no closer to the flames, but he swats that fear away. He is impervious to harm.
Something deep within him insists he draw no closer to the flames, and that fear almost consumes him. The flames will destroy him like dry paper.
The raging blaze quiets, and he moves inside. Someone has attacked his home and he will know who.
The raging blaze will not quiet for days, and the cost will be terrible. Something has done him irreparable harm and there is nothing he can do to stop it.
Inside, he sees and feels much. He obtains the valuable clues he needs. He goes back to report.
Outside, he sees and feels too much. He feels the horrible, unimaginable thing happen. He goes back to report.
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