How sadly hath The Lord testified against you.

POSTED: Sun Jun 09, 2019 9:15 pm

The Queen found him on her ride. She had been sweet and smiling when she told him, but O'Riley understood her nuances.

He found himself sniffing around what he supposed now belonged to the Greygrief's. It would fool some people, eventually, this name they had so desperately seized. Eventually people would forget who they had been. A man wishing to abandon his past and a girl spitting in the face of her death father – carrying not his name but a new one, as if to removed herself from the lines which had given her form – hiding who they had been was entirely logical. Their personal life was (for the moment) unimportant to him and there was other business to tend to.

There it was – traces of fear, of an Outsider.

The way O'Riley approached the home was casual and as if he had every right to be traipsing all over such a place. He did, being second-in-command. There was, nevertheless, no real reason for him to invade the living quarters and so he did not. Instead, satisfied that the wretched thing was inside, O'Riley announced himself with a deep bark.

I came to see what you found, he told the people behind the door. It was Andrew who answered. When he stepped outside the two men conversed briefly.

O'Riley entered the cabin alone and closed the door behind him. He let his eyes adjust to the dim light and soon fixed them on the girl.

Got lost, did you?

if the thunder don't get you
then the lightning will
Salsola
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Mel
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POSTED: Sun Jun 09, 2019 10:11 pm

Word Count → +400 :: :')

He had given her some time to process everything after it was all said and done.

Admittedly, there was much to take in. Nothing she wanted to especially rehash internally, but the immense pressure lingered nonetheless. Andrew wasn't as cruel once he was alone, out of his queen's sight; or maybe it just seemed that way to the newly enslaved girl. When his betrothed introduced herself, however, any hopes that perhaps it wasn't so bad, Andrew wasn't so bad — those were gone by the wayside now. Narcissa, true to her namesake, was intense and brooding, much more so than Andrew — Lord Greygrief could ever be, despite his best attempts.

Her still-numb mind just blindly went with what they said. Their snide remarks and jeers and criticisms were heard but not especially listened to. For now she was damaged goods, and even their stubbornness and impatience could not cure that. Maybe when it wasn't so fresh; and they must have seen that, for they left her to her own devices for some time.

As soon as they disappeared into the other room, she prayed. Keeping herself together had been nearly impossible when her new masters — the word felt so sour in her mouth — glared down at her, but out of their view, the tears flowed freely once again, despite her knowing full well they would hear her. But she didn't care. She needed answers from someone else, someone that had just watched as all this happened. Had she not been faithful? Had her coming here not been what He wanted? Why was He so eerily quiet now? Maybe now that she had a moment alone by herself, just for a moment, He would —

But of course there was always something.

The coyote man slipped outside for a moment, conversing with a faceless stranger, before this other male entered, alone. A large, gray-toned man, his muted lavender eyes scrutinized her from across the room, his harsh aura causing a shiver to run down her spine. She was frozen in her kneeling position on the floor, staring up at him nervously as she gripped her faded skirt.

He must've known. Andrew must have told him.

"... Yes." Her voice was hoarse from so many heart-wrenching sobs and it almost sounded like a question. But what else was she to say? Didn't he already know the answer?

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POSTED: Mon Jun 17, 2019 5:14 pm

You don't look like a wolf, was the first thing he told her. He was old enough to remember Boreas. His grandparents had taught him what they knew of this old-new enemy, so that he would understand how to best prepare himself should the threat arise again.

O'Riley smiled.

I'm not here to hurt you. Your people know about evil, I imagine. I heard that when your kind die they go to hell. Fire, brimstone, boiling pits. Given all that, he stepped closer to where she sat. From her garments, he doubted that war had been what brought her here.

Being that he was himself a spy, O'Riley imagined they might send someone weak and unassuming first.

She had given herself away so easily, though...

Tell me who you are, and why you came here. I want to hear it from you, he ordered her. Elphaba had told him, and Andrew had told him, but O'Riley liked to hear things for himself. He was certain she would have memorized a story by now. If she was lying, he could look for a tell. Everyone always had a tell.

if the thunder don't get you
then the lightning will
Salsola
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Mel
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POSTED: Wed Jun 19, 2019 10:54 pm

Word Count → +300 :: :')

His words were not lost on Aly, despite her shock and confusion. A lock of her unruly hair fell between her scared eyes, and she swallowed hard, finding her tongue exceptionally dry. He was trying to scare her, she knew, but there was a flaw to his rhetoric; only the terrible, godless people went to Hell. People like him, like all Salsolans. Oh, no, Aly was quite confident she would not end up burning in the fiery pits as this man would one day, and even though it seemed a small victory in her mind, her shaken expression did not alter in the slightest.

She knew he was looking for one tiny slip up, and while she was usually prone to giving into her emotions, the sorrow won out.

But he certainly already knew what she had told the witch and her servant; to lie or hide the truth now would only get her in more trouble. Her poker face was abysmal, anyhow.

She licked her lips, averting her gaze to her feet as she began with a trembling tone. "M-My name is Alejandra Sanctus." A pause as she cleared her throat nervously. "... I'm from... I c-came here because I'm a tailor, a seamstress, whatever you call it, and I wanted to trade some of my clothes I've made before, I was traveling with my brother but he turned and went back home and left me here but I couldn't just go away empty-handed — "

The rambling was fast, and her eyes darted back to his. "I'm from Zion, but I didn't live there beyond my childhood. I have not been there since I was a pup. I... I haven't seen anyone from there since we left. My mother didn't... like it there." She gulped again. "Please, please believe me. Whatever you... you think I'm here for, it's... nothing to do with them."

Perhaps denying her homeland would seem suspicious but she didn't care. Aly really had no loyalty for Boreas, as she hadn't experienced enough life there to justify so; the only ones she pledged herself to aside from God were her mother and brother, and if that warranted skepticism from the man, so be it.

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POSTED: Mon Jun 24, 2019 8:47 pm

I want to believe you, was what O'Riley said. He sounded very earnest, and his carefully neutral expression was not unlike his low, rolling voice. It was not entirely pleasant, but it was a fair price to pay for being alive.

Desiring to keep his people safe was not merely a personal decision, but his duty. She could have been a spy, or perhaps some agent sent in to disrupt the pack. They would choose someone who didn't matter – someone who looked like a dog or a coyote, whose pure blood had been infected and whose worth lessened because of it.

O'Riley understood their thinking because it was logical, contradictory, and brutal. His Oma had always told them about looking for the most obvious answers. The truth was simple. This was why, despite her own honestly, O'Riley could not help but imagine that there could have been something more to her arrival. The timing seemed auspicious.

Boreas waged war against us twice. You understand why we can't trust you, don't you? The Queen let you live when we could just have easily ensured our secrecy by killing you, so I don't think you should act so frightened. We aren't like your people, he scoffed. Zion sounded like a savage place. Someone had written the name down in their history books, and hearing her use it confirmed what the others had said. O'Riley knew what their enemies called their land, though no one really remembered the names of the soldiers who had died trying to destroy their kingdom.

If you are speaking the truth, O'Riley said with a smile. You have nothing to worry about.

if the thunder don't get you
then the lightning will
Salsola
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Mel
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POSTED: Thu Jun 27, 2019 7:26 pm

Word Count → +300 :: :')

Oh, she was sure he wanted to believe her, definitely. Even as honest and true as he made himself out to be, Aly had her reservations about trusting this man; he was not just making idle conversation. He wanted to figure her out and find something wrong with her, some flaw in her story or some reason as to why some Boreas female had ended up in Salsola. It was a cruel irony, it was a strange coincidence, it was perhaps even a bit suspect — but that was it. There was no underlying cause that had brought her stumbling into the Thistle Kingdom, unless He had a reason for her being captured here. If that were the case, which she was inclined to believe, the true reasons to it were absolutely beyond her comprehension.

His words rendered her speechless, and her dark ears folded easily under the pressure of his voice. Sure, she could live as a slave, but was that really living if it were under the hand of another? His eerie smile caused a shiver to run down her spine, and the mottled dog swallowed nervously.

She licked her lips before squeaking out, "I wouldn't lie." That probably sounded rich, but she couldn't think of anything else to say.

A thought passed her mind, and Aly rubbed her forearms where the goosebumps had risen. "... Will you... t-tell anyone? About Zion?" It would be so easy for her heritage to leak from this cabin, and that could very well damn her in the eyes of many a Salsolan if they knew she had been Boreas. And he was very much in a position to let that sort of secret spill, had he felt it appropriate. As much as he seemed to be against her as it was, it didn't seem so far-fetched.

She shivered again.

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POSTED: Thu Jul 11, 2019 8:25 pm

You can trust me with a secret, he told the blue-eyed girl.

Her origin already damned her – there were plenty of folk who had endured the wars against Boreas that would not take so kindly to her presence. She represented the violence of radicalism that set her people against Salsola, even if she had not been raised among them.

Had she, enslaving her would have been far more difficult than closing that collar around her throat.

But if I were you, he went on, running a hand through his wild hair. Keep that close, eh? Imagine what could happen if the wrong person finds out...well, O'Riley spread his hands. I'd be careful.

That was all the more he warned her. Salsola was full of vengeful hearts. Alejandra had made a mistake coming here, further proving to O'Riley that this false-god her people believed in was either nonexistent or terribly cruel. Perhaps this was how it was supposed to be, and they would save her from the false-fire that so consumed the wolves of Boreas.

O'Riley imagined Salsola would try her as well as the blood-hungry god of Abraham.

if the thunder don't get you
then the lightning will
Salsola
The High Inquisitor
User avatar
Mel
'Souls Assemblage Luperci Informatore & Cazador LET ME IN
a tightening atrocity
ECLIPSE

POSTED: Sat Jul 13, 2019 7:04 pm

Word Count → +200 :: we can wrap this up? :D

His words rang hollow, though she had to trust he wasn't deceiving her. Even if this interrogator let her heritage slip, he was risking someone damaging Andrew's newly acquired property — as ridiculous and outrageous as that sentiment was. Her being someone else's property. It all sounded so strangely natural to them, yet so awfully wrong to her at the same time.

Was that shock that numbed the stabs into her heart? Shouldn't she be more upset about this?

She wanted to scream and cry and run away. But instead she just nodded as she was expected to after his promise. She didn't even know his name.

His suggestion, however, she would take to heart. If her ancestry could be restricted to him, the white-faced witch, and her masters, perhaps she could be spared from Salsola's wrath. I won't tell anyone, she said to him internally, but the words did not come. Instead she peered at him as her muzzle lowered further to the ground, and Aly found that she hadn't anything left to say.

She just bobbed her head again, just as she was expected to. As a good slave would.

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