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Agressive Negotiations (taken by Forever Threnody)



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Sun Apr 01, 2012 8:57 am
Caesar says...



Spoiler! :
This will need much improvement- it's just a rough draft


Prologue

The Supreme Council of Arcanavale, probably the three most influential Great Elders in the land, were perplexed.
"I sense trouble- something dark stirs" muttered Jesus, sitting on the seat that swung gently between two saplings. He stared out at the beautiful landscape spread out under him -the Council headquarters being located on a gentle hill further away from Olympia, the metropolis capital of Arcanavale- one hand supporting his chin, the other toying with the golden crucifix that hung from his neck.
"I agree- great changes will sweep over Arcanavale" said Azrael. Of the three, he was the most brooding, the most silent. He stood under the shadow of a gigantic tree, the bark glowing golden, the leaves silver. Around him, the shadows were deeper, as if the black cloak and cowl he wore radiated darkness- which of course they did.
"Chance favors the prepared mind" stated the third member. Of the three, he was the most simple-looking. He sat at the low couch that was by Jesus, and was toying absent-mindedly with a pen. One golden circle glittered in his left ear.
"Indeed, William" said Azrael. "We must be prepared"
"And what better place than the birthday of Satan's spawn than to gather information about darkness?" remarked Jesus. "It will be tonight"
"We might learn something, yes" said Azrael. "Where?"
"Satan's mansion, I believe" replied Jesus.
"However, our presence will close mouths that would otherwise be talkative" noted the Bard.
The three were silent as they pondered this new development. William scribbled something on his sheaf of paper he always carried around- his way of concentrating, while Jesus's hand twisted frenetically around the crucifix, his only sign of movement. Azrael was also stock-still.
"William, you are, as always, correct" said Azrael, after a long pause. "We must send an envoy- Malcolm, I think, would do well"
"The scholar?" asked Jesus, raising one thin eyebrow in surprise.
"He and I are good friends, and he knows how to be indiscreet" insisted Azrael. "He also is rather popular. Are we all in favor?"
"Very well" said Jesus "the boy should be given a chance"
"A fool thinks himself to be wise, yet a wise man knows to be a fool" quoted the Bard.
"Point taken" said Azrael- the Council were probably the only ones that were able to decipher Shakespeare's cryptic quotes. "We shall act with caution"
"Have him brought here" decided Jesus.
Azrael nodded, then he walked back, into the gargantuan marble palace that stood further back, the ten-meter tall crystal doors sliding open soundlessly.
Shakespeare, out of the corner of his eyes, thought he saw something. He glanced up and saw, on the golden domed roof, a tiny black speck. He polished his horn-rimmed glasses and looked back up.
The speck was gone.
"Darkness stirs" he murmured. "We must act decisively in our prudence"
vulgus vult decipi, ergo decipiatur







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Mon Apr 02, 2012 7:00 pm
Threnody says...



Spoiler! :
Rewritten. I hope it's to your liking. I kept many of the names Biblical, I hope you don't mind. :wink: Anyway, it may need some revision so let me know what you think.


The mansion of Satan, from the outside, appeared noble and stately. It was well groomed but imposing and loomed over the mountain it was located on as if it were much more massive in size. The master of the mansion, Satan himself, projected his presence everywhere, from the elaborate crystal fountains to the gilded trim sweeping across the walls of the glittering white manor. Malcolm navigated the grounds carefully, and as he approached the patio, he heard music slip through the trees that hung with lights that emulated the stars so adeptly that they outshone them.

"Malcolm? Is that you?" He heard someone call from the gardens. "Fancy seeing you tonight, I thought you removed yourself from society to focus on your studies, quite a shame I thought to myself," a young man stepped from the the gleaming stones marking a path into the wild yet beautiful gardens that Satan kept.

"Hello Lael," Malcolm nodded towards the man with the curiously ironic name. "I felt the need to participate in this one event. I couldn't turn down an invitation to a gala of this caliber," Malcolm replied, emulating the man's pedantic speaking style.

"I like your bow-tie, you can really pull that style off, almost like a deranged and unhappy Librarian. And of course, this party is what's on everyone's mind, my father's events grow increasingly avaunt-garde after all, especially these days, if you know what I mean," Lael studied Malcolm's face and then gave a soft chuckle under his breath.

"In what way?" Malcolm questioned quickly, adjusting his bright red bow tie that stuck out quite noticeably against his otherwise plain attire.

"Oh the usual way, he's never one for...reservations. He's quite the madman," Lael suggested in response, letting his words hang in the air.
"Did you know that he has purchased living ice sculptures for the parlor?" He added, giving Malcolm a contained grin.

"And where is the lady of the evening?" Malcolm asked, dodging a conversation about the decor, something he was thoroughly uninterested in.

"The Lady of the evening? I don't know who you mean, but my sister's receiving gifts in the Gazebo, I do hope you brought her one, she's known to get quite...unreasonable," Lael winked at Malcolm. "Her temper has been growing quite outrageous as of late. My father attributes it to the weather, a coming storm I believe he quoted, whatever that could mean," Lael sighed, brushing nonexistent dust particles from his stiff, silk tuxedo.

"Interesting. This was a good talk Lael, perhaps we'll see each other later?" Malcolm turned away, eager to cut his conversation with this man short.

As he drew closer to the house, he noticed a wide array of people slowly mingling with one another, all speaking in a light, lilting dialect that implied both respect and mockery.

"...And then I told the homeless orphan, 'Get out of my swimming pool!" He overheard a graying matron remark with a voice that dripped of poisonous honey. "Malcolm! So pleased to see you tonight dear," the woman called out suddenly as he walked by. "I thought you'd be... indisposed."

"What do you mean?" He turned to look into her steady amber eyes.

"Oh nothing. Just a rumor, how they fly around...especially here," she laughed again, as if Malcolm was unbearably funny and petted her ermine stole.

Malcolm wandered on like this, greeting people he knew and stopping to talk with them. He noticed a tall, fair man who looked young and energetic though his eyes implied wisdom that far exceeded his supposed years. He instantly recognised him as Satan himself, sleekly ebullient as ever. He laughed with a large group of people as he brushed his glimmering blonde hair from his eyes with the sleeve of his neatly pressed white dress suit. A girl, who looked remarkably like her father Satan, glowed with excitement, and gave him a small smile before turning back to give the crowd her full attention.

"So you signed the agreement? How did it go?" A voice addressed Satan, swelling with amused surprise.

"Ah, quite wonderfully indeed. Such enjoyable company. I couldn't help but accept their offer, their mannerism was just so...Je ne sais pas!," Satan sighed, barely concealing his rolling eyes as he downed a clear cocktail and hailing a butler to take it away and bring him another. "Of course I don't truly intend on actively participating in this little spiel. As long as I claim my support, there's no need to get my hands dirty, is there?" He let out a pleased chuckle and those encircling him joined him after a moment's hesitation.

"Happy birthday Gabrielle, enjoying yourself?" Malcolm addressed the Satan's daughter as he joined the crowd as their conversation momentarily ceased and struggled to come up with a passable smile and offered her a bouquet of vibrant flowers that had, miraculously, survived the commute. Gabrielle glanced down at the bouquet with mild disgust and narrowed her eyes.

"I'm having an amazing time of it, can't you tell? I love this business of my father's as much as I love these flowers." Gabrielle gave Malcolm a crooked smile as she pondered the gift.

"Malcolm, so pleased to see you. How are your studies? I heard you're quite an informed student." Satan smiled widely down at him, letting the implication ring. When he received what he thought was an acceptable reply from Malcolm he continued, "I will thank you in the stead of my daughter who seems to have allowed sophistication a holiday for this occasion."

Malcolm nodded and chanced another tentative grin a Gabrielle, who brushed him off and began systematically removing the petals from the flowers and letting them fall to the ground. "Exuro," she whispered, and the rest of the bouquet burst into flames in her hands. She looked down at them with a smirk and glanced at Malcolm to gauge his reaction. He shrugged and laughed as he politely excused himself, though he lingered by the group listening to them further the conversation.

"Anyway, I must warn you against vacationing in those affected areas, from what I can see, it could result in quite an explosive experience," Satan continued, keeping his mood light, though from his voice, suddenly struck with seriousness, it was clear he expressed legitimate concern.

"Indeed. There is enough foul magic flying around already without one needing to seek it out," a hardened, bearded gentleman muttered under his breath as he delicately sipped from a crystal champagne flute.

"Ah but my friend, that's not what I meant. To travel to that area would thrill you to death I'm sure," Satan replied, allowing a sardonic edge to intrude upon his otherwise composed demeanor.

The group strayed from the subject and began discussing a marble bust of Satan that stared confidently at them from its place by a fountain. Malcolm, feeling as if he had discovered exactly what he had came to find out, slipped out from the grounds. On his way out he noticed Lael sitting by himself under a softly lit lantern.

"Bye Lael," Malcolm called out.

"Take care Malcolm. I hope you enjoyed my sister's birthday, may this family live long and prosper, no?" He responded, cheerfully, but with a hint of bitterness.

"You always do," Malcolm responded. He waited for Lael's back to turn before he reentered the mansion and made his way to a different section of the gala.
“One sees clearly only with the heart. Anything essential is invisible to the eyes”
~ The Little Prince~








In the winter months, snowstorms and rainfall in the Patagonian Ice Fields can drastically affect the landscape. Worsened by heavy winds, such storms can reduce visibility and lead to glacial calving, ice collapses, and avalanches. During these conditions, travel is not advised.
— The Documentarian