hold my hand in yours

[valeas]

WHO: Emilia & some closed starters.
WHEN: One is backdated to dragon shenanigans. Others throughout October.
WHERE: The Bessis Tower. Doxe's palace. Places!
WHAT: Cold misery. New allies. Wrath.
WARNINGS: Food that might make you hungry. Some KotC spoilers. I'll add the rest as we go.

( if you'd like anything with emilia, please feel free to send a PM or hit me up at moonstones. i love writing starters. ♥ )

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( CLOSED TO ALLISON | BACKDATED. )

[valeas]

Emilia memorized the layout of the aqueducts on the off-chance things didn't go according to plan.

... Things did not go according to plan.

What started off as a reconnaissance mission quickly gave way to true rescue efforts. She helped the newcomers evacuate alongside Allison — as much as she was able to, in any case. Once the chaos of it all unleashed the water dragon, they both lost sight of each other for the rest of the evening, though both of were left to the unbearable chill settling into the intricate waterways.

Now frozen strands of dark hair stick to her neck, her outfit suctioned to her body like second skin. Emilia is absolutely not equipped to handle these temperatures, and not for the first time, she longs for her sunny island. Whenever that longing threatens to turn to panic, she squashes it like a bug and forces herself to push onward. She's come too far to be done in by ice.

With gritted teeth, she tries to ignore the fact she's losing sensation in her feet as she wanders down the canal, eyes and ears open. How long she wanders is anyone's guess, but it feels like an eternity. It feels like she may never be warm again.

[rumorate]

Pulling a Diego is not one of Allison's best moves, she'll admit.

As much as she is generally not the reckless one, she does want to try and help. She can't keep claiming she's a better person than she was just by virtue of not rumoring people. She has to actually act like the hero she was trained to be. She and Emilia agreed to go down together, and naturally got separated on the way.

Because nothing is easy.

The chill is starting to get to her as well, as she wraps her arms around herself tightly. She hasn't found her yet and panic is starting to set in. She can feel her breath frosting around her, and the shimmer of tar on the walls not dissimilar to the ones she experienced on the Stair of Sighs, and she can't help but think of the horrors that could be luring Emilia into the darkness.

She doesn't however, think about what could be luring in her. She doesn't catch sight of the young witch as she walks, nor does she see the tar beginning to congeal behind her. It isn't until she's drawn to a stop, the sixth sense itch of something being wrong that she thinks to turn, but Tar Allison is quick to strike her before she can scream, knocking her down into the slush and ice below.

[valeas]

A thick wall of ice stands in between Emilia and the sudden noise that brings her to stillness. She steps forward, soundless and cautious. Certain patches of the ice wall are cloudier than others, and all she can see is a blurry silhouette.

Something less-defined, too.

There's an insistent tug in her center, one she's learning not to cast aside too quickly. Embracing intuition over her tendency to overthink isn't easy, but it hasn't steered her wrong when she's chosen to listen.

She takes another step forward. Gathers all her focus. Strains to see past what normal eyesight allows, and there, there alongside the silhouette is a faint aura that's grown somewhat familiar to her. It glows, and reveals.

"Allison?" Emilia quickens her pace. "Allison!"

[rumorate]

She hits the ground hard, groaning as her weight comes down against her hands. The tar Allison swings to give her a kick in the ribs and but she manages to roll out of the way and avoid the blow.

She hears her name, from somewhere nearby and she shoots her leg out towards the shins of the creature, to try and force it back.

"Emilia, don't come closer!"

[valeas]

Underneath Emilia's quiet disposition is a terribly stubborn, fiery thing that frightens even her, at times. It listens to no one, her genuine desire to play it smart forever at odds with her instinct to charge forward and protect.

Like she is somehow meant to, beyond the fact she cares for Allison and could never leave her.

She must help, but how? Her memory is the greatest traitor of all.

In moments where she needs her spells most, she forgets what little Nonna Maria taught her. Emilia is quick to reach for her amulet, dread sluicing through her veins upon remembering she returned it to Wrath. As if the bastard needs it. He already knows safety at his own hand. He possesses power beyond measure, the sort of power she longs for so deeply she could choke on it.

It was hers once too, she almost swears it was.

Emilia puts her full weight into kicking at the ice wall that separates her from Allison. She may be stronger than she looks, but it's not enough to knock the ice down. Frustration and rage crowd at her throat, and she lets out a suffocated noise as her fists bang against the wall, mindless of the blisters that form. If she could summon fire like the Bessis —

Her mind grows dark, and she closes her eyes against a searing pain that fills it. When she opens them, her hands glow with a light. It begins to crackle, sifting out of her until a ball of rose-gold flames hovers in between her palms. It pulses as if saying hello, and in the urgency of the moment, all Emilia can do in response is throw it against the wall and watch it burn brighter.

[rumorate]

The ball of warmth hurtles towards her and all she can do is bring up her hands to shield her eyes. She does her best to roll away, putting more space between herself and the ice wall. As the monster repositions to try and get a better blow, the glow of light catches it and it lets out a cry of pain, before fleeing from the fire.

As it clears, she sees Emilia on the other side, and her eyes widen in surprise.

"... Did you do that?"

[valeas]

"... Yes."

And there is no time to unpack that, nor give in to fear that someone else has seen, even when that someone is Allison. Tar threatens to slither off the wall in ringlets, as though attempting to gather itself back to fuller form. Emilia lifts her still glowing hand in its direction, watching it flee. She rushes to Allison's side. "We have to go."

( CLOSED TO MARCOS. )

[valeas]

The agreement: access to the kitchens for a very limited time per day.

Emilia accepts it for now, aware she shouldn't push her luck. She's trying to pick her battles, instead of fighting all of them.

Sometimes.

Though she doubts the culprits of the masque poisoning would attempt the same exact trick twice, she remains vigilant about the food being served at the palace. It helps cooking is an area she feels confident in. Nobility and court politics, on the other hand...

The blueberries in the ice box looked too tempting to ignore today, besides. And the focaccia bread she'd given time to rise earlier! It dimples perfectly. The end result of this bread almost blocks the waves of sadness that crash into her as she moves around a kitchen that is not Sea & Vine. Memories have tricks of their own. But no one told her they've thorns, too.

After drizzling the olive oil and garlic mixture she concocted onto the bread, she scatters the blueberries over the loaf. Adds some lemon wheels and rosemary leaves for good measure. Tops with just a bit of parmesan, salt, and cracked pepper.

It cuts into nice, long slices once she bakes the loaf golden. She shares some of those slices with the cooks on staff and thanks them for sharing their space with her, before placing the rest in a small basket. She carries that basket with her to Vannozza's wing of the Doxe palace, and much like last time, sets it down on a nearby table should anyone else from the team feel like partaking.

True, most have no reason to trust her cooking, either. But she knows she isn't a danger. ... To them, at least.

[soloritur]

Since escaping from the tower, Marcos has been trying to come to terms with everything that has been thrown at him. One, that he's apparently in some completely different dimension where dragons and zombies are a thing, while everyone gives him a funny look at the word 'mutant'. Two, that they're completely cut off from everyone else they know and he has no clue where to find them. And three, that he and Lorna are again on separate sides and forced to not only meet in secret, but work to sabotage each other.

It's a lot.

That last point is what he's stuck on as he walks down the halls of the palace, having just sent his 'attendants' away so he could think in peace. They're presumably being paid, like he is, to ruin the reputations of some witches he admittedly isn't too fond of. But it still seems beyond strange that he's been given authority over them, like he has any idea what he's doing here.

With everything on his mind, he doesn't realize how hungry he is until he spots the basket of bread and the woman who just left it on the table.

"Wow." He really can't help but comment once he gets a closer look. After what he survived on while he was drugged in a cage, it's hard not to marvel that they eat like this in the palace. Realizing he said that out loud, he looks up to the woman with raised eyebrows. "That looks... amazing. Did you make it?"

[valeas]

"I did. Feel free to help yourself, if you'd like."

It all feels like a lifetime ago, some days. Or like a dream that belonged to someone that never was. But no, the dream was hers. This was all she'd wanted: a small garden to call her own and to fill bellies up with good food, no matter their station. No one would leave her corner of Palermo hungry, or sad. She can't imagine that sort of lightness anymore, but it was hers, once.

Even if Marcos weren't vaguely familiar from the night(...s) of the Bessis fete, he looks a bit like she did when she first arrived to Taravast, out of place and in search of something steady. They all want a way back.

Emilia may not be able to offer much where that's concerned, yet. But she can offer bread.

[soloritur]

Marcos smiles at her, hoping that he's not taking something that was intended for someone else. It's hard to tell if he's seen her before, or if she has any idea where he came from, but he's still grateful for her offer. Honestly, he's just tired of making sense of everything, and he hasn't fully recovered from his time in the tower. A little kindness goes a long way.

"Are you sure?" To his credit, he waits for confirmation before he takes a piece, and he doesn't immediately cram it into his mouth. Even before he got here, his diet was terrible. Now he supposes he has money again, so he could possibly change that. He should probably spend it all on food before they catch on to him and take it back.

"Thank you. This almost blocks out the memory of the last thing I ate."

[valeas]

"Positive," Emilia answers firmly, tone brooking no room for doubt. "I was finally given access to the kitchens for an hour every day. I try to make good use of that time and bring food back to anyone from our group that would like some of it."

And she does know Marcos is a newer member of said group. She may leverage baked goods to her advantage at times — Wrath certainly becomes chattier when she brings him cannolis — but in this case, it's merely an offering.

She is slow to trust as a general rule, and being able to make her own food gives her some small degree of comfort. What with all the people being poisoned and growing sick, both within and outside these palace walls...

Emilia cants her head to the side. As someone who is quiet and reserved when her elemental rage is not getting the best of her, she tries not to pry into the private unless she's infiltrating dangerous courts. But she's too inquisitive to pretend she isn't curious.

"I now have to ask."

What was the last thing Marcos Diaz ate?

[soloritur]

"So they share the kitchen work around here?" He tilts his head to regard her, considering everything that implies. Back before the Underground got dismantled, they would all help each other and pitch in where they could, so the concept immediately appeals to him. They also never ate anything this good.

When she asks the inevitable question, he breaks into a smile that ends in a slight grimace. That's a memory he would very much like to put in the distant past.

"You don't want to know." He picks at the bread and debates how widely known this is. It's a small leap to come to the conclusion he already has about her, but he's already formed some pretty strong opinions about the group that rescued him from that cage. "Your people helped me out of that place. I haven't really found the right person to thank, but... apparently I'm still accepting favors."

( CLOSED TO WRATH. )

[valeas]

Dona Rigarda spoke of many private functions and Emilia knew it was no exaggeration, but she still manages to be surprised with how relentless this city can be. Whatever else may be happening on its outskirts and within, somewhere there is entertainment. At all hours. Tonight was no different, and Emilia knew it was important to attend despite having no real desire to do so.

Not with the secrets they've been uncovering. Not with the dangers that press ever closer.

Still, she doesn't regret attending tonight's exclusive gathering, and she suspects Allison doesn't, either. Who keeps company with their enemies? Dona Rigarda had also asked, and subsequently answered, Everyone.

It's not unlike what she planned to do in the underworld. Her mission may have been delayed, but every step she takes in Taravast is with this mission in mind. With Vittoria, always. Her twin would've enjoyed these parties far more, extrovert that she was.

Her smile is sincere, if not small, when she bids Allison goodnight.

Once she closes the door and finds herself in the safe(?) confines of her room, Emilia allows herself to sigh. To slip off her mask, figuratively and literally. Neither ever fits quite as well as she'd like.

She moves past her boudoir, loosening her braids —

There isn't fear. Not when she can sense him. Not when she'd been expecting him, despite the distance she placed between them upon learning the true nature of their bond. But his silhouette by her balcony stops her in her tracks all the same.

[inferus]

Wrath has been waiting for long enough that he began to consider using the stone to contact her in his worry, in thoughts over which suitor of hers was likely latching hold of her in one way or another. He ends up on the balcony so as not to encroach on her space within her room, staring out at the people walking by, thinking over what he has learned from the tombs, and attempting (and failing) to keep his thoughts from her and the party.

It is occasionally infuriating that someone with such exceptional willpower cannot keep his thoughts on one specific subject.

He hears her approach the door and step inside before he sees her. He can feel her get closer to him. It is their bond as much as she may wish she could reject it. Wrath remains on the balcony, but he does move toward the edge of it, catching sight of her (the loose curls, the way the moon shines in through the open balcony on her, the dress she wore to the party). Emilia is stunning, and in the moon, she looks so- His heart aches.

His head tilts slightly to the side as he openly surveys her, eyebrows lifted as if he hasn't been lost in a tangle of thoughts and worries. "You're late."

[valeas]

Trust the emotionally constipated demon to zero in on her tardiness.

What pause the sight of him had given Emilia dispels with his observation. It doesn't quite sound like an accusation despite her urge to go on the defensive for it, but neither does he sound at ease. He was worried, and she doubts he'd admit it.

She can't say he has no cause for concern. The people they're engaging with are dangerous, no matter how elegant and courteous their veneer. They've that much in common with him and his brothers. She must never forget that lesson.

"I'm late," she agrees after a moment of silence. An acknowledgement she should not have kept him waiting, though she doesn't rush to explain who she was with. They're not married, though she's not actually looking for another fight about that.

"The countess wouldn't let anyone leave." Emilia steps fully into her room, and focuses on removing her jewelry next. Waits until he's joined her to add, "I think she would do well in House Greed."

[inferus]

Wrath steps into the room after she walks further in, watching as she removes each piece of her jewelry. There has been distance between them, and so he has not had the opportunity to look upon her so openly. He lingers on her face for too long. He should look away but he does not.

There's a light smirk at the comment she makes even as he nods in agreement. The Houses are full of many nobles. These are specifically demons so they are different than mortal nobles (more severe, more intense, more set in their ancient ways), but the idea is the same.

"Or House Gluttony. Many nobles would easily qualify for either House."

He can see it in them as they walk around, speaking to one another. Pride is another, but he would rather not speak of Pride now. He swallows to keep from speaking of how incredible she looks. It likely would not go over well, but he thinks it as he takes in the dress.

"Did you enjoy the party?"

[valeas]

"Almost as much as I enjoyed Fratello Carmine's speeches in the marketplace."

Which is to say, not very much.

Emilia understands the benefits of attending these events, the ornamentation of it all undeniably impressive, but she doesn't enjoy them. The masks, the pretending — she'd been a breath away from closing in on the truth surrounding her twin's murder when they were whisked away. She resents how close she was. Resents having to be here instead, unable to stop caring about any of it.

Anir would tell her such bluntness and disdain is not the right approach to a place like Taravast, and that she should try something subtler. He'd be right, but that's all she's been doing these past couple of months, and she already tires of it.

The need for compromise. The necessity behind give-and-take. An alliance here and an alliance there. Negotiate with this enemy, that one. Use wit, not anger. Swallow your wounded reasons, your quiet fury, and push aside all you find unpalatable. Keep your eye on the bigger picture so you don't burn down your forests. She could make them tell her. She could leave them with no choice.

"Which isn't to say it wasn't productive," she adds, turning to face Wrath more fully. Her awareness of him has only intensified since they spoke of the true nature of their marriage bond but it's always been there, crackling. A silence falls between them, in which she studies him thoughtfully. Then: "Did you know Macaluso and Vannozza's parents all died within months of each other?"

[inferus]

Wrath smirks.

He feels the same about parties with nobles in general. Hell itself is filled with parties exactly like the ones she has been attending except more intense, more overflowing with open and brazen sin in their displays. It is even more important to be subtle, to hide parts of oneself away for the sake of learning information.

She has done quite well with the parties here. He had no doubt of her skill at the parties in Hell as well, but he would prefer she never had to attend a party in Hell at all at least without all her memories and powers returned to her.

He breathes in sharp when she turns to look at him, and the intensity in her gaze which draws his breath in sudden. When she studies him, his heart beats faster as if she can see him- truly see all of him (even the pieces he keeps hidden for fear of how she will react, what she will think). When she speaks, it draws his attention back to the moment.

"...no, I was unaware." It does seem like it was a productive evening if she learned more about the cousins, their family. "It seems quite the coincidence, doesn't it? Their parents die, and their uncle raises them both. Did you hear how?"

( CLOSED TO DIEGO. )

[valeas]

Emilia di Carlo and Grace Three have bonded following their rather disastrous first meeting.

The wolf would not be the first wild and lethal creature drawn to her. It may also be that there is some wildness and lethality to Emilia herself. Whatever the reason, Grace Three ends up at Emilia's door a few nights out of the week.

Her coat is coarse-thick and white, save for some strands of grey that make her overall look bright and silver as Emilia's cornicello. Her eyes are a dark gold that remind her of — well. You Know.

In short, she's a beautiful girl who's grown a fondness for being brushed, despite the fact it isn't actually necessary. They've just finished their grooming session for the night, Emilia having dropped to the rug by the fireplace. Her skirts and Grace Three are pooled around her. She plucks an orange blossom from her hair and tucks it into the wolf's collar instead. "There. All done."

[gladiokinesis]

Diego can't watch the wolves all the time -- especially when he's keeping up the masquerade of one of the suitors. That threat over Allison's head still has him in a chokehold. If he fails, he won't be the one to pay for it. And he's had enough people suffer on his behalf.

Also five wolves is just like...a. lot? So he's glad Grace #3 has made a friend in Emilia. It gives him some respite. Still, it's the evening now and he should probably check in.

is she with you?

The message is blunt and to the point, like most of Diego's speech.

[valeas]

Yes.

Emilia has been forced to hide her whole life. To say that she does not see the benefits would be a lie. Transparency can often become a liability. But she also can't say Diego's forthright nature isn't refreshing, and often draws out her own.

You may come for her if you wish.

Grace Three enjoys her time with the would-be queen, but Diego is still the papà.

[gladiokinesis]

In contrast, Diego never was given the option to hide. His father forced him and his siblings into being heroes when they were still children. They had been famous, whether they wanted to be or not. But all of that involved a lot of lies and manipulation, and it leaves Diego with a bad taste in his mouth. He'd rather piss someone off with the truth than comfort with a lie.

sure, i'm on my way

The other wolves are trotting behind him as he arrived at Emilia's door, knocking on them.

[valeas]

Emilia opens the door just a crack and Grace Three does the rest of the work, swinging it wide open and joining the rest of her pack in the hallway. The grooming session sets her apart a little, orange blossom still tucked into her collar.

Stepping out into the hall after Grace Three, Emilia closes the door behind her. She'd never seen them all clustered together like this, and a startled sound escapes her as she surveys the madness.

"I see you were entrusted with no small task."

[gladiokinesis]

Diego squats down to give Grace Three some scritches as she comes out of the room, making sure to give her proper acknowledgement. She's such a pretty girl, after all.

Then he stands up to greet Emilia, scratching the back of his neck a little. He hadn't realized it might be intimidating to someone else -- he's gotten used to his little pack, much to Five's chagrin.

"I don't know that I was entrusted with them so much as we found each other when I arrived -- and by the time I finally got here it didn't seem right to turn them away."

And they never tried to hurt him or his friends or family. Not to say they weren't still dangerous animals, but there's a bond there, if nothing else.