Over the Threshold (Emmz and Elly)

[Arizae]

The heat of summer was rising quickly within the city of Tears. Windows were flung open to allow the air to pass and hopefully cool the large estate. It lightened the rooms considerably. Normally it was a sign of wealth when one had plentiful and vibrant colors to decorate with. Commoners could easily access the simple browns, grays, and yes even the blacks. That did not matter to Count Khael Settic. He would stick to his roots, and the colors of the proud Settic name were silver and black, his estate would be decorated as such. Naturally his crazed father had not believed the same, and there was a smattering of oranges, blues, greens, reds…Nyx damn it all the estate had been a veritable rainbow when he had returned.

It brought a pleasant smile to his face to see the servants cleaning out those silly colors. The name Settic meant wealth, vibrant reds and blues meant little when compared to that. Drapes of long shear black, edged in silver…not just the color, but actually threaded in silver, hung from nearly every window. Pillows of silver and black with the image of the fox upon them within every sitting and receiving room where they complemented the new finely crafted furniture. Servants milled about as the count made his way through the halls, and as his pleased vibe preceded him they seemed to hurry about their work in a happier fashion. Everyone knew when the Count was not pleased, but life was good when he was in a good mood.

As he walked down the long entryway he caught the new decorations from his peripherals, lovely bowls, platters, and statues all worked in silver or delicate porcelain. Expensive treasures, and there between those insets into the wall were gigantic paintings, several of them containing the portraits of his ancestors though his father was noticeably absent. High windows filtered the light to land on those pictures, lighting them up to let guests get a good view. Khael was pleased with how his estate was finally looking. Soon he would have everything just so; the stables would be home to the finest horses he could find along with numerous cart animals. Servants’ rooms would be kept up to standard and hidden with particular skill, the kitchens were stocked with more than wine and the gardens were looking beautiful even for this time of summer.

With a flourish he secured his long black cape to the shoulders of his heavy outer tunic. The collar high, the cuffs buttoned with a bit of lace at the edge. Boots shining brighter than mirrors and hair kept neat and professional, though he did wonder at the grey wisps at his temples. Too much stress within his lifetime it seemed. Well, today would be better than normal. He had taken care of the most pressing matters yesterday so that he could take a simple visit to the Cathedral of Leona…and then his good mood was ruined. Simply by remembering that it was called the Cathedral of Leona brought a bad taste to his mouth. There should be no Leona, only Nyx and her example of the path they must follow. Scowling slightly he turned to look over his shoulder.

Unfortunately his normal guard would not be with him today. Jhored had business to attend, and Khael had agreed to let him leave for it. Still, these two he had been left with would do. They weren’t going grey but they had scars of their own to show. With a slight sigh he checked his collar with his hand, and then headed towards the grand doors. They soared fifteen feet, both made from a single piece of hard oak. A fortune in themselves those were, carted all the way here from the borders of Ellesmera. All along the surface was scrawled the story of Nyx and the only tales from his family, each on their own door. There in the middle was the sigil of Settic, the fox. Now the two guarding those great doors removed the bar together and pushed the massive doors outwards.

No need to head to the stable yard today, he was visiting a place right next door. What added more value to his estate than any door was the fact that he could leave his house, turn left, and end up right next to the Cathedral. A prized location, worthy of a Count. If any other had been so close to the cathedral it would say their power and wealth was greater than his own. Naturally if he were to run this city he must have the affluence and authority that required. Just one thorn in his way, or rather a knotted bush that sprouted thorns wherever he sowed.

Malandra. The name made his blood boil. He made his mind shove it away, today was just a routine visit to the cathedral. Make sure affairs were in order, that it had no problems and that the tourists were treated well. Visitors brought revenue to his city and he would have them return. Khael also hoped to speak some of those considered higher in the church hierarchy; he wanted to discuss this so-called importance that Leona held. Why wasn’t Nyx the main focus these days? But he came in peace, and as a sign of good faith he came unarmed. No sword was at his hip and it set him slightly off balance. However he would be a fool to step onto any street without some good steel watching his back, so the guards he brought with him were armed. They would remain outside the Cathedral however; swords did no good in a holy place like Nyx’s cathedral.

Even with his slight limp they came to the great cathedral doors all too soon. Brows furrowed Khael eyed the stairs leading to the monstrous doors with steely determination. With a flick of his hand he ordered the guards to remain waiting outside, but to also keep attentive if he should shout for them. Who knew the tricks Malandra had put into this foul place. Then with only the pride an old soldier can command he ascended those stairs at a pace slower than normal. His bad leg hindered him greatly on such surfaces, but his face remained calm against the pain as he made his way to the open doors and smiling face of Nyx. When he made it through the threshold he checked his attire, straightened his cape, and entered the Cathedral feeling at peace and yet ready for war.

[/blockquote]

Words :: 1094
Tagged :: None yet
Characters :: Khael Settic
Notes :: Decent muse I can add more 'action' if you like, figured it's introductory stage at the moment

[Emma]

“I ran out of red paint, so I had to improvise.”

Oracle Marena was a tall woman, with iridescent green eyes and long dark curls cascading down her back. Pretty, in an unconventional, yet immediately noticeable sort of way. Her breath was held, her stomach taut, and her lips were pressed into a thin line. Her gaze rapidly flickered back and forth between me, seated on my throne, and the diagram I had drawn on the floor. Marena was one of those people who disapproved of the Oracles’ true calling, who was an outspoken enemy of the magical properties of flesh and bone. She was a doctor, she’d claimed, not a killer. When I’d reminded her of the flip side to healing, she’d responded by threatening to reveal what we did, release our test subjects, as well as a colourful assortment of profanity that could shame a longshoreman. All it took was the sight of the Paladin’s axe, however, and she’d complied with joining the upper ranks of the Cathedral. But she was still unruly, and disloyal. But she was also intelligent. Now she was thinking, desperately turning over ideas of what she could say. She was always cautious around me, always picking her words carefully. I spoke again.

“Homey, is it not?”
“Your Holiness,” the girl finally said tightly. “I’ve come to remind you that His Grace Khael Settic will be conducting his routine inspection of the Cathedral today. The Count will arrive within the hour.”

At first, I felt disappointment. Marena had chosen to not speak out on this particular day. But then came true pleasure- Khael would be arriving today for his monthly visitation. I was so delighted by the news, I wasn’t even particularly angry that Marena had probably deliberately delayed this information as a subtle obscene gesture- flipping the bird, the young people called it. She knew fully well that it took me hours to get properly dressed, especially for meeting the very man who ruled this city- especially the man I found so amusing. Khael despised me. I didn’t know what had prevented him from tearing out his sword and cutting off my head in all our previous encounters. But he also found me attractive, that much was obvious. His stunning grey eyes were always hot and smoky with hate whenever he looked at me, but he had noticed my perfect form as well. And as it so happened, Count Khael Settic was unmarried. He had never once responded to my advances, which I had always kept carefully subtle- but I adored the thrill of the chase. Today was but another opportunity to ensnare him.

I chuckled, leaning back in my polished ivory throne and gazing at the now-cold blood that still ran in rivulets down my left hand. It belonged to a woman, some immigrant from the Hellenes, who cried and moped so often that I had eventually grown very bored of her. She’d been constantly keening over her dead daughter, I’d been able to grasp from the very little Hellenic I understood, a petite thing called Kala. That name struck a familiar note, but after rooting around in my mind for several minutes and coming up with nothing, I’d promptly forgotten about it. I laid my head up against the throne as I heard some scullion girl come in, and, whimpering in disgust, begin to clean the corpse. She knew better than to touch the five-point circle I’d drawn on the floor. I never took kindly to some ingrate ruining my spells. I ran scenarios through my head, possible ways of unlocking the lust Khael had secretly hidden within him, and the results of such attempts. I didn’t hope to think he’d ever be on my side. I only wanted to bed him as my way of winning- and he wasn’t bad to look at, either.

I finally rose from my seat with a little groan, planting my bare feet on the cool marble. Khael would arrive soon, and I didn’t have much time to wash and dress myself. Ignoring the girl and the corpse, I padded away down one of the corridors that led to a spiral staircase hidden deep within. Naturally, most people only used the grand sweeping staircases located on the ground and upper floors to get around the marvel that was the Cathedral of Leona, but for emergencies and the private use of the Hand there were iron steps that led to the more scandalous secret areas of the Cathedral- one of them being my bedchambers. I swept up the steps, cursing not for the first and not for the last time whatever idiot had decided to put the Divine’s private rooms on the topmost floor. The stairs were sparsely populated, and I only passed one or two Oracles and a few scullion maids on the way up. None of the servants spoke common tongue, another way of maintaining our secrecy. They all bowed to me respectfully before scurrying on their way. I paid them no heed, the goal of getting a proper wash and decent clothes the only thing on my mind.

I entered my rooms, which I unpleasantly realized were much hotter than the cool dungeons, and was satisfied to see that a boiling hot bath had already been lain out for me, soaked with lavender petals to give it a pleasing fragrance. Such a shame that it had to go to waste- I didn’t have time for a proper soak in the tub, as the Count could arrive at any minute. I didn’t care if I kept him waiting, but I was very eager to go and meet him. Instead, I wandered over to the washbasin, also filled with lavender water, only cooler, and splashed it onto my face and hands, removing all traces of the Hellenic maid’s blood and any sweat I’d garnered during the day. Summer was my least favourite season. The heat was stifling and the sun went out of its way to burn my flawless ivory skin. Drying off with a small hand towel, I looked up to regard my reflection in the mirror mounted over the washbasin. I had foregone any makeup for the first part of the day, due to having to work in the dungeons, but I wanted to be perfect for Khael’s arrival. Whipping out some black kohl and red pigments, I outlined my eyes and painted my lips. Then I tossed my black tresses so that they framed my face and checked the mirror again. Excellent.

That only left my outfit for the afternoon. I walked over to one of my many wardrobes and pulled it open, gazing at the cloth and jewellery within. I began to frown in concentration, but quickly schooled my face smooth. I had gone this long without wrinkles, and I wouldn’t ruin my perfect face now. Eventually, I went with a black brassiere studded with silver- those were the family Settic’s House colours, after all. After that came a long translucent black skirt slit down the sides to expose the entire length of my legs when I walked, and perhaps more if I was sitting or standing in the right position- I had decided to forego any sort of undergarments. Following that were chains of silver around my neck and waist to offset the black, and a pair of velvet gloves that made me shudder when I ran them over my bare skin. Once again, I regarded myself in the looking glass, turning and posing. Considering how little time I’d been given to prepare, I was impressed with the overall turnout. I was sure it would attract Khael’s attention. Then, only pausing to slip my feet into a pair of sable open-toed stilettos, I swept out of my bedchambers, dark hair bouncing against my shoulders, and made for the stairs.

I took the public steps this time, stopping regularly to greet the many tourists that had come to visit Nyx’s holiest grounds. I was used to any and all reactions to my bearing- shock, disgust, amazement, lust. It took longer to get down to the ground floor than it had taken to dress myself, but I enjoyed the attention and paid no mind to the time. When I finally descended the last flight of stairs, I saw two Sentinels rushing towards me. I waved them off, already knowing exactly what they were going to say, and kept going at my own easy pace, heels clicking in tandem on the marble floor, which had been polished so cleanly that it was possible to see one’s reflection within. Khael would be waiting for me in the Cathedral’s main entrance, as he always did. I was tempted to rush, but I restrained myself, taking my own sweet time until I saw the massive statue of Nyx that crowned the Cathedral’s lobby- a statue of the beautiful goddess seated, one hand closed, the other open- symbolizing that She held as well as received knowledge.

Count Khael Settic stood just beyond the threshold, leaning on his good leg and staring up at the face of Nyx with a dark overcast on his face. Very tall and wide, especially compared to my tiny frame, the dark, handsome man was classily dressed in an embroidered black cape, polished boots, and heavy tunic- so much clothing for such a hot day. Even so, I always found Khael very easy on the eyes- it was only a pity about the limp. I’d offered to take a look at it on several occasions, make it well again with my magic, but he’d never let me lay a hand on him. As he stood up straighter at the sound of my rapidly clicking heels and turned to face me, eyes blazing with that smoky hot fury once again, I reminded myself that today; that might change. Or it might not. One never knew in the game of seduction. But I would persist nonetheless.

“My darling Count,” I purred in my lyrical Gaulish accent while reaching out to take his arm. “It is wonderful to see you again.”

Words;; 1685
Muse;; AH-MAZE-ING. I missed Mally so much!
Thoughts;; It's kind of sad that a bra and slit skirt with no panties is the most clothing Malandra's worn in any thread, ever. x3

[Elloria]

Raiden had slipped into the Tears of Leona two weekw ago with a minimum of fuss. The guards had eyed him closely, but after claiming to be seeking enlightenment about the Voyage of the Nine Moons he had been allowed in. The fact that he already had learned a good deal about the Voyage and Nyx whilst in Teirm had clearly never crossed the idiots' minds. But he had to remind himself that they were unaware of who he was. Besides which, religious pilgrims were frequent visitors to Leona so it was a perfect cover for the sort of thing he had in mind. Namely, covert investigation of the current ‘Prophet’ of the Cathedral - Malandra Ramakrishna. He mentally shuddered at her name. Months spent in Carvala trying to find a connection between King Azuan and Malandra had taught him to despise her name. He hadn't found anything particularly solid beyond what the King's nieces and nephew occasionally let slip, but one slave had let slip one drunken night that visits by a cursed succubus fitting Malandra's description never ended well for any slave involved. But the woman had been quite drunk during this revelation, so the truth of it was debatable. However, the supposed history of Malandra was a bit more suspicious. There was practically nothing to be found about her. Not where she was really from, how she entered the religious sect of Nyx. The only thing of note was how she became the current Prophet. That was well documented, as it concerned the treason of the previous Prophet, Anastasia Devereux - a foreigner from the land of Gaul who, up until the accusations of treason, had been a deeply pious woman. Other than that? Nothing. Which was more than enough to worry his lord, Kazan-sama. And that meant Raiden needed to travel to the Tears for more direct investigating.

The past two weeks had been spent wandering the city. He listened closely to the gossip. He asked inconspicuous questions about Nyx, about the Voyage, about the Cathedral. So far, very little worth considering. The only curious thing he had heard about were complaints concerning the impoverished. Apparently they were quite a problem here, which Raiden couldn’t really deny. He saw them everywhere around the city’s marble streets. But what had bothered him was how the poor he had taken note of would occasionally disappear. He had stayed up into the wee hours of the morning slipping through the shadows to investigate by night. Up until two nights ago, his silent nosing about had proven fruitless. But now? Now he had something interesting to go on. Two nights past, he had silently followed a suspicious group that had grabbed two beggars from the streets and taken them to the Cathedral. He had yet to see those same beggars emerge from the Cathedral. ‘Why those two and no others? There are claims that the Cathedral can only tend to so many, but I have seen the size of that building. It is massive! More than enough, surely, to house the entirety of Leona’s poor....Yawata no Kami curse me, but I really wish I were back in Teirm. Or, better yet, Itasus.’ This city was worrisome.

Which was why Raiden - a man farther from his home and master than he had ever been in his life, currently desiring only a return to those same - found himself standing before the steps of the Cathedral of Leona. Not out of awe, like many of the ‘tourists’ near him, nor the fear he would never admit he was feeling. No. He was, quite simply, revolted. ‘This is supposed to be a RELIGIOUS building? It’s NOTHING like the shrines and temple of Yawata no Kami. It looks better suited as the palace of an Alagaesian royal! Of ANY royal! But no, the nobles surround it in estates that are shamed by this building, for Kami’s sake.’ He shook his head and made his way up the stairs with a muttered “Alagaesians.” He slipped through the doors and looked around, pulling the hood of his cloak up with a shiver. It was, admittedly, a warm day and he wore his usual attire of a grey long-sleeved shirt with matching trousers and sandals. But he still felt strangely chilled. He paused beside one of the many smiling edifices of this religion's deity - Nyx, the Goddess who gave and received knowledge. He looked at the statue before snorting quietly and moving through the main entrance. His goal was to find a possible entrance into the more private areas of the Cathedral that he might be able to exploit later on if he had to.

He had just started up the first flight of stairs when a most lyrical voice drifted down to his ears. Had he been a dog or cat, his ears would have instantly perked up at the sound. It was sensual...perhaps too sensual to be natural or human. Of course, the danger didn't really register in his mind as his head jerked up to behold one of the most blatantly, shockingly sexual sights he had seen in his rather short life. A woman - considerably shorter than Raiden even with those sinfully high open-toed heels she wore - strode regally down the stairs, pausing every now and again to greet the Cathedral's visitors. She wore only a black and silver brassiere, with a matching black skirt slit to reveal the entirety of deliciously smooth curved legs. Her waist was slender, her breasts high and round, her skin flawless. Her hair...Kami, but her hair was beautiful too. ‘She’s too beautiful...’ That was his rational thought. His body was rapidly flushing rationality from his system in favor of satisfying something far more illogical and carnal.

Two men rushed past him to her, but Raiden barely noticed. He had eyes only for her just then. She paused beside him with a smile that only a temptress could give, greeted him and thanked him for visiting Nyx's most holy grounds before sweeping past him. He didn't even have a chance to respond - not that any response he might have given would have been intelligible. He watched her walk away, trying to pull his scattered thought back together and suppress his growing desire. ‘You are supposed to be gathering information on that creature. Not allowing yourself to imagine doing such delightfully human things with her,’ he told himself sternly, for he had no doubt that the lovely being that had just passed him was none other than Malandra Ramakrishna. When he was reasonably certain he was back in control of himself - no amount of training could ever prepare an Itasan for something like that - Raiden immediately retraced his steps. He followed at a slight distance, glancing around as if admiring the architecture of the building. No one paid much attention to him and he eventually stepped off the path Malandra followed to wind his way around and behind the large statue that was the crown jewel of the hall. Hidden in its impressive shadow, he edged to one side and pressed himself close to the statue's base. “My darling Count. It is wonderful to see you again.” Raiden shivered upon hearing that voice again. Kami, but this was a dangerous task he’d been given. He closed his eyes and brought his desire back under control. He had little doubt that whatever was going to happen, it would prove to be both interesting and illuminating.

[Arizae]

Long moments passed as he met the gaze of Nyx. Deep within his mind he wondered if the statue bore any true resemblance to the blessed leader of his faith. Closer to the surface he ran through his simple mental exercises. Enlightment would come with peace and serenity. Khael let the sounds pass by while he let his strong leg support him, floating easily within that edge between thought and perception. It was helpful against the heat. Thankfully he was trained well for the attire he must wear. Heavier cloth, and more than many would think healthy this time of year, but he set his mind to other things. He did not let the heat touch him. Senses sharpened he suddenly felt his heart skip a beat and then continue to pound faster. Tongue dry he let his mind focus on what his body had already picked up on. The click of heels, the smell of lavendar. Slowly he turned, care given to his leg as his grey eyes met the slight form of nonother than Malandra Ramakrishna. Suddenly the heat he felt was not from the harshness of the sun outside.

Training was slipping as his fury began to build. How could a woman dress like that within the house of Nyx? Was nothing sacred? Why from where he stood he could see...never mind that. Perhaps if he tried only to meet the eyes all would flow normally within his head. Truly was distracting when the woman chose such attire. Such a short woman along with it, already she drew near and he found himself having to look down at her. Difficult to peer only at eyes from such a position. For once he actually wished himself shorter, not her height of course, no one would take a man seriously if he were only that tall. All the same it would have been better had he been able to meet her eyes more easily as she approached. Then she spoke, that tone sending shivers down his back, his skin crawled at her words and yet he felt oddly warm as well. A difficult feeling to be sure of. Like hearing the purr of a lover but noticing poison on the lips. Damn Malandra to the nine hells, what she wore left nothing to the imagination, she should have been thrown to the streets as a…and there was the arm.

His mind moved quickly, if he was to make a decision it had to be instant, as if he were expecting it almost arranged it. Logic told him he could not refuse her arm, not before the eyes of the church where they revered her, but he was loathe to touch her, to let himself close to her at all. Khael was thankful then for the clothing he had, and regretted not having worn gloves along with the sleeves. Luck was on his side for all those years having to endure heat while having no skin free. So within the same instant Malandra offered her arm to him, he took it as any gentleman would, his face remaining devoid of emotion. That most likely was a problem, he should have smiled politely, perhaps given a dip of the head, but no all he did was calmly take the proffered arm with his usual grace. Khael couldn’t help it, trying to fake emotion would just make what he really felt come out at once. Better to remain stoic then unleash his anger within such a hallowed place. Still, as his arm took hers he could feel his skin itch beneath his thick coat. Next time…he would try to visit the temple without her assistance.

“Greetings to you as well Prophet,” the title was something vile and unneeded. There should be no prophet, Nyx had lived her life and that was what should be followed. All these extraneous things were…distracting, but it was easier for him to say a title than it was to utter a name. Professional and calm, that was the purpose of this visit. Well, simply exuding those properties was not the entire reason for coming here. Khael was curious, he knew he had not seen the entire Temple. It’s immense size could hide many things within it’s winding corridors. Naturally he needed to inspect the building, make sure everything was at it should be. However, during his last visits…he had not been allowed to walk wherever he wanted.

“I take it the renovations are done in the lower rooms?” He kept his tone even and low. Quiet enough for a private conversation, respectful for the setting, and yet not a whisper. If anything he added a hint of command to the question. Truthfully he didn’t believe there were any renovations happening; he figured they meant to keep him out from something they didn’t want him to see. Which made it all the more important that he find out what was done below. One did not order Malandra about however, Prophet or no. He may have to try one day, simply call her out before everyone, but not before he was sure that he would have proof of…whatever he felt he must find. As he spoke he directed their steps, taking them immediately to the side instead of heading straight down the aisles as he might have on a personal visit. Khael regretted not paying respects to Nyx in a formal fashion, but he did not intend to do that with her around. He made his way down past the very impressive statue filling the hall. His course was clear, make for the side passage ways. “I would be extremely disappointed if I were refused access once more.”

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Words :: 950
Status :: Finished
Tagged :: Malandra, Raiden
Comments :: Not happy with this one, muse was bad, but I needed to get it done. It serves its purpose

[Emma]

“Greetings to you as well, Prophet.”

After what appeared to be an enormous internal struggle that lasted but a second, Khael regained his composure. He schooled his face completely smooth as he took my arm, no longer registering his infamous anger except for the occasional flicker of fury in his eyes. I was not disappointed. Here, among the commoners and my servants, things needed to be kept clean and professional. When in the hallowed halls of the Cathedral, I was always being watched, and not just by admirers. I’d already decided not to use one of the many weapons in my arsenal until we had some more privacy, away from the rabble and curious eyes. I wrapped my arm around Khael’s, placing my other hand on his shoulder as he began to walk slowly to some predetermined destination- not forcefully at all, giving me adequate space to stop him if I so desired. At the same time, however, his posture and the tone of his voice left no space for argument.

“I take it the renovations are done in the lower rooms? I would be extremely disappointed if I were refused access once more.”

As I’d expected. He was pulling me towards the side passages, where the tourists were fewer and the Sentinels more numerous- innocent places, like private altars, but they also led to the dungeons below. However, I was surprised at how quickly Khael was moving things along - he always started off his visits with prayers to Nyx at the Grand Altar before Her statue instead of performing the inspection. Khael was a remarkably pious man, one of those who found the Cathedral heretical and bastardized. He’d never said anything about his beliefs to me in particular, but his upbringing and profuse hatred of me said enough. I smiled brilliantly up at him, tossing my locks over my shoulder to hide my concern. I’d been expecting him to spend at least a quarter of an hour in contemplation, which meant that things were not entirely prepared. Khael would not understand the Hand’s activities if he was exposed to them now. I expected he would take every measure to destroy my life’s work. I would not allow that to happen.

“Indeed. Just yesterday, in fact,” I purred. “Alzough it is nothing but new bedrooms for ze children of Nyx, rooms to house ze sick and ze crematorium-” I waved a hand. “C’est ennuyeux. Ze lower levels cannot possibly interest you. Surely you would rather inspect ze upper levels of ze Cathedral and pay your respects to our Goddess?”

Words;; 430
Muse;; ... ehh.
Thoughts;; This post is actually one-quarter the size of my previous one, and the shortest post I've written in years. -facepalm- Arizae, I'm not sure if I'm allowed to powerplay Khael. You're more than welcome to PP Malandra to move the thread along faster, however. And Ell, since you're going to be RPing with yourself for a while, which must be boring, I could bring another character in to make it more interesting for you?

[Elloria]

Raiden leaned around slightly around the corner, just enough to peek past the base of the statue. He couldn't really see anything except a sliver of Malandra. She and the Count were not close enough to his side. But he could hear them just fine, despite the quiet tones both used. He sent a silent prayer of gratitude to Yawata no Kami for his exceptional hearing as the Count of the Tears - Khael Settic was his name, if Raiden recalled correctly - and the Prophet conversed. Renovations, huh? This cathedral didn't seem old enough to require renovations, but Raiden didn't know that much about the history of the religion. Or rather, he didn't know much about the history of humanity's take on the religion of Nyx. Sources were remarkably scarce. Raiden tilted his head slightly in curiosity. Settic's voice held a hint of command in it as he asked about the renovations. Malandra had not struck Raiden as the type to listen to another's commands, no matter what or who they were.

His slim view of Malandra's delightful form disappeared and he jerked his head back. They were on the move. He slunk to the other side of the statue and found Settic directing both of them towards some side passages. The Count was intensely interested in the lower levels. Was the man being barred from those areas? If so, that meant there was probably something the Prophet wanted to keep hidden from the world. Raiden's eyes darted around to ensure no one was watching him before he rose from his squat and stepped out of the statue's shadow. He slowly wound his way towards the passages Malandra and the Count were aiming for. He followed a fair distance behind them - far enough to appear unassuming, but close enough to hear what they were saying. “Indeed. Just yesterday, in fact.” Raiden shivered. That voice was just could not be human. He had seen many humans who were meant to act like sex personified. None had ever sounded quite like Malandra. “Alzough it is nothing but new bedrooms for ze children of Nyx, rooms to house ze sick and ze crematorium-” Raiden resisted the urge to roll his eyes. ‘Rooms for the sick, indeed. I’ve yet to see any sick or destitute brought into this Cathedral in the light of day.’ “C’est ennuyeux. Ze lower levels cannot possibly interest you. Surely you would rather inspect ze upper levels of ze Cathedral and pay your respects to our Goddess?” He sincerely hoped the Count would continue on his current path. Raiden paused beside a statue, watching the two out of the corner of his eye. If he could slip in with them, it might make things much easier for him. He hoped.

(OOC: Musey hates me right now, but meh.)