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Characters: Althaia, Azriel
Alexandria Castle - Library
This room is rather large, and mostly untouched by Heartless attacks. Hundreds of books line the massive shelves which stand on every corner of the wall. Near the entrance, a set of narrow steps leads to the lower level of the library, which contains numerous large tables in the very centre of the bookshelves. There are also numerous ladders that move back and forth across the larger bookshelves, some of which reach the high arched ceiling.
Contents:
Althaia
Izella
Obvious exits:[leads to 'Alexandria Castle - Lobby']
The early afternoon sunlight streams through the high windows of the Alexandrian Royal Library, catching dust-motes in the narrow aisles between the massive shelves of books that stretch from wall to wall. Few folk linger here, even with the wealth of reading made available to those fortunate enough to have access to the Palace; even so, the books are well-kept and tended, with little of the usual musty odour that permeates many a library with books of such age.
Comfortably esconced upon one of the rungs of a shelf-ladder, a young man is engrossed in turning the pages of a heavy tome haphazardly spread on his knee, one hand splayed over the book to keep it from falling. Adjusting his glasses and keeping an elbow pinned on the book, he glances up at the old clock on the wall, noting the time, and begins his descent down the ladder, the open book carried in the crook of one arm.
A shadow of a figure dashes down the aisles, floating effortlessly as its speeds past gaps between books. Althaia continues with her navigation until finally slowing down and landing upon the ground. Her boots echo soundly as she walks towards Azriel, eyeing him curiously. "What book is that?" she asks.
Startled enough to nearly lose his grip on the thick volume and send it hurtling to the floor, Azriel can only utter a faintly disgruntled sound as it wobbles and slides through his grasp. "A treatise on various forms of teleportation magic." He shifts his grip on the worn leather binding, climbing down the last few steps and stepping lightly down from the ladder, his expression somewhat neutral as he turns to Althaia. "I didn't expect anyone to be here at this time - it's usually rather quiet in the afternoons, for such a large library. The Queen is...somewhat more lenient in these times, though it took some cajoling to get past the extra security detail they've posted at the gates. I wouldn't blame them though."
Coughing slightly into one hand, the youth offers her the book to peruse. "What brings you here today?"
Amusement dances upon Althaia's face as she eyes the exchange between Azriel and his actions, stifling only the slightest of laughs as she does so. "Me? You know my father was a mighty scholar. Every bit of knowledge is worth having. I can still hear him echo it sometimes..." she falters, catching her composure quickly as if to detract from any hint of sadness. "Regardless...I'm just here patrolling," she idly replies, casting a glance away as if looking at something or someone before turning her gaze.
"Teleportation magic? I doubt there's much of anything left on it. No one knows of it, but I suppose its theories could be applied to the gateways that the Heartless employ and those in the Middleverse."
Althaia takes the book offered to her, sliding a slender exposed palm down the cover before flipping through the pages. Her eyes light up with interest as her gaze hungrily devours the text.
"Exactly." A slight arch of one eyebrow, and Azriel continues, his level gaze still on the girl before him, "I thought perhaps if a way were to be found to impair or incapacitate the Heartless' portal magic in some way...we might have some slim chance of lessening the numbers we have to contend with. Though I daresay if such a solution did exist..."
Slipping off his glasses and rubbing the bridge of his nose, the mage steps to one of the heavy reading-tables, drawing back a chair and folding himself into it. "Other mages and those with more of a grasp of such magic would have found it by now, if I were to be practical." He shrugs wryly, leaning back in his chair and looking to Althaia. "It was worth looking into, one supposes, if somewhat less of a possibility than a vain hope."
Eyes continue to wander, feasting on the book's script before looking back up at Azriel. "I have a better idea," Althaia utters, careful to lesson her voice, softening the tenor of it. She moves quickly, sliding to Azriel's side gracefully, almost before setting the book down upon the table. "At least...a quick fix for now, for Alexandria. Do you remember the black mage dolls? The factory might still be in Dali....if we could figure out how to start the machinery...Mist surrounds the world now, it's plentiful. You see, we could make dolls, make them by the masses and use them to destroy the Heartless. The city would be safe and protected," she adds, voice straining a bit as if to meet Azriel's eyes. "But not many might like the plan...if you are to help, do not speak a word of it to anyone."
If there were any aversion that Azriel felt to that suggestion, he might have taken great pains to conceal it; as it is his expression only shifts but slightly as if in discomfort, quickly suppressed. "I'm not certain as to the Queen's point of view on the Black Mages." The youth's voice, pitched low and quiet so that only his companion might hear, still echoes emptily in the narrow space between the bookshelves, belying some of the unease he felt on the subject. "After all, they were used as tools of destruction, and in the wrong hands..." He pauses for emphasis, resting a hand upon the cool, polished surface of the table before him, a tiny frown knitting his brows together. "They could very well be a kingdom's undoing."
"However," here the raven-haired mage glances up at the other, "Desperate straits call for desperate measures. I'm not well enough aware of the risks entailed in the making of mage dolls to pass any judgements on the possibility. If you are, perhaps you might be able to request an audience with one of the Queen's advisors. Garnet is a little young and impulsive, I'm aware, and she mightn't view any suggestions such as this in the same light as someone more detached and...logical as they might be."
"Waiting will get us nowhere," Althaia comments, her voice hollow now, harsher than before. "I wonder how many of her advisors are loyal anyway...Black Mage Dolls are not that dangerous, yes they are a weapon but like all weapons it is the wielder who brings death not the weapon itself," she adds, musing as her lips become a fine line.
"Regardless, what else can be done? Researching forbidden magic that may be our undoing as well? Or fighting meaningless sorties outside? For each we slay, two replace them," come the words, strained as she clenches a bare hand, however slender that it is, into a fist. "Maybe it was a mistake...coming back."
Sighing, the youth merely rakes a hand through the hair that had escaped his ponytail, a gesture of helplessness and mild frustration both. "Maybe. You know what they say about how the best of intentions always go awry, Althaia. But better to be here and to have the chance to be of help rather than wonder if we could have, right?" He props an elbow on the back of his chair, regarding the girl quietly, glasses dangling from his hand. "What will you do? What do you -plan- to do? If you go ahead and get caught it might do more harm than good, especially at this time. Is it worth the risk?"
Slender shoulders rise up into a roll, fabric pulling tight against them as Althaia shrugs. "Make do, like always. I just can't sit back and watch the city be destroyed....not again," she answers firmly yet her voice softens at the end, lingering upon the last word. Her eyes shift, as they quickly look away, having caught themselves staring at the mage across from her. "And you? Read more books? Hide in the library?" she inquires, still keeping her gaze away.
Only the slight stiffening of Azriel's shoulders betrays the shift in the youth's mood at these words, his eyes still fixed in their calm scrutiny of the time mage. Rather than giving reply at once, he reaches out to tap a gentle finger on the book she still held, as much as to call her attention as for emphasis, his eyes grave. "We all seek to help in ways we think best," he says evenly, leaning forward as if to rise from his chair. "For some of us it, such efforts may be all that we are capable of. Or believe ourselves capable of."
The thin line of Althaia's pressed lips merely quirks, forming a wry smirk yet not entirely noticeable. She drops the book upon the table before Azriel. "Perhaps. What other weird theories do you have Azriel?" she inquires, eyes flaring with challenge. She remains standing yet, her poise rigid and almost trained as she studies the other with a scrupulous eye. "The Queen is young and has a bleeding heart, we must tread carefully."
"If only..." The smirk on the young woman's face is echoed on Azriel's lips, in far lesser degree; he affords but a shake of his head, resting his chin on the arm he'd stretched on the back of the chair rather than departing. "Your ah...energies seem so misdirected.
"I'm not saying your opinions lack any validity, for that. Every man has to be prepared to have his points challenged, and be capable of defending them. The doubts I've raised may very well be the same as those others will.
"Then again, it's been quite some time since the mage dolls were used. The people of Alexandria may very well have forgotten much of their past in light of the present, and decide it's the lesser of two evils. Even then there's no harm in seeking answers where we one least expects them to be found. I'm sure your father would say the same."
"Such efforts may be all that we are capable of," Althaia echoes the same words, shifting her gaze back upon Azriel. "I will arrange a meeting with one of the higher commanding officers. You will swear your fealty to Alexandria and be in service to the Crown. It'll make visiting the library and gaining access to the castle overall much easier....and increase your safety if you are smart to make use of it," she dictates, and then pauses, a slight smile curving upon her lips. "If you wish anyway. It'll make things easier. Yes, debating, dispelling and proving points, it's fun, it's what scholars do. But we don't have time for that anymore," she adds, tilting her head. "We have to act before it's too late."
"I never said I was otherwise, so you can't really blame me for thinking the way I do," quips Azriel lightly, giving her a minute, considering look. Slipping the thin glasses back on, he finally rises from his chair in one smooth motion, brushing a hand over the sable fabric of his sweater.
"Oaths are not to be sworn just for convenience, you know." Slanting her a wry glance, the young man takes the treatise that he'd taken from the shelf, its weight pressed into his open palm, his tone dry and not without humour. "Those that are have a way of coming back to bite you, I would think. I'm sure we can obtain some sort of official permission without the need for that; there are still those in this city who would be able to vouch for me and my loyalties...
"If not my character."
Here he grins suddenly, shamefaced. "Too much to hope that people's memories aren't that long."
With another shrug, Althaia waves off Azriel. "Do what you wish, but if you wish my help and I yours, it be best if we're on the same thought. What is the plan?" she inquires, raising an eyebrow just a fraction. Restlessly so she offers no time for an answer and moves to busy herself with a nearby bookshelf, hand gliding over their spines as she skims the titles.
"You don't seem one very content to follow orders blindly." Reaching out to brush a hand along the spine of the nearest tome on the shelf before him, Azriel tilts a thoughtful look at Althaia, assessing her. "To put it mildly. You're well aware that if we were to...offer our services to Alexandria so directly we'd be more likely to be pressed to join the military than be listened to for what we have to suggest."
Shrugging, he moves off down the aisle, hands shoved into his pockets, his step casual and pace unhurried. "If you have a friend or acquaintance who might be willing to hear us out in a less formal setting we might have more of a chance. If you believe we have the time to spare that is. Think on that."
With that he vanishes around the corner of the aisle, his footsteps fading from the vaulted hall.
-----Althaia says, "sob they remind me of alcuin and phedre"
<OOC> Azriel says, "...."
<OOC> Althaia says, "xd"
<OOC> Azriel says, "CRY"
<OOC> Althaia says, "what XD"
<OOC> Althaia says, "alcuin was purdy >.>"
<OOC> Azriel says, "az is not as gentle sob"
<OOC> Althaia says, "sob"
<OOC> Althaia says, "but as much as a bottom xd"
<OOC> Azriel says, "*grab from behind* *is shot*"
<OOC> Azriel says, "sob"
<OOC> Althaia says, "omg xd"
<OOC> Althaia says, "sob hot sweaty library sex"
<OOC> Azriel says, "on the ladder XDD *dies*"
<OOC> Althaia says, "no...floating XD"
<OOC> Althaia says, "sob"
<OOC> Azriel says, "rofl XDDD"
<OOC> Althaia says, "sob cast haste azriel"
<OOC> Althaia says, "cast stop azriel's crotch...viagra xd"
<OOC> Althaia says, "anyway >.>"
<OOC> Azriel says, "OMG"
<OOC> Azriel says, "but you already had library sex sob"
<OOC> Althaia says, "spank"
