INT - Esher’s House
Dorian (alexandros.lycomedes) had sent the family runner, Tetsuo, to Lady Esher's home with word that he planned to come by for an informal visit mere hours before he intended to land. It was another foggy day, as all the isle's days had been lately, spreading unseasonable gloom to what should be a bright summer. The younger Windgrace brother approached from his home in clean clothes and no trace of horse upon him, with a bottle in hand. His hair was just shy of damp from bathing after a ride on Irene. Despite the heaviness of recent days and the toll of all the strange goings-on, he had a song on his lips. Music happened to be one of his coping crutches and even without new records coming in, he had plenty of old favorites to re-enjoy. Just now he was singing a classic, one that had been dear and near since Dinah had sleep-walked into a tunnel, Lead Belly's peerless rendition of 'In The Pines:'
"My girl, my girl, don't you liiiiiiiie to me, tell me where did you sleep last night. In the pines, in the pines, where the sun don't ever shine, I'll shiver the whole night throuuuuugh." It was a short walk, just enough to get through the driving chorus of the piece.
Lady Llywellynn Devoreaux Esher: Llywellynn was quite exhausted. Nearly all of her limited energy was going towards healing from injuries that would have killed a normal human on the spot. She clearly was not one now, if not before certain things had happened to her on this isle. What exactly might be a question she couldn't answer.
What was certain was the seer's sheer stubborn will to live continued to be the guilding star of her survival against all odds. And the kindness of others.
She was still here due to the kindness of a stranger in fact. One she didn't want to think about currently, considering the last thing he had said and done. She frowned delicately, a bloom of color flitting on her cheeks but she tried to settled as comfortable as possible on the living room couch in wait for her first true guest of her new home. Hearing a song drifting through the windows from a voice she recognized, a smile graced her lips, a certain quiet relief to be able to see a friend she had missed recently. The note from Dorian hours earlier had been unexpected, Eli had argued against seeing anyone yet but Llyw had insisted in her stubborn way.
So she had been carted down to the couch, wrapped in robes as comfortably as her injured areas would allow. Which was to say she was not in any sort of acceptable clothing at all, but it just couldn't be helped. Her fever ensured she couldn't abide heavier garments without suffering too much. And her Glamour was erratic at best, even that an effort when she was within the privacy of her own home. It was time she was completely honest with the man she counted as her first friend.
Eli attended to the double doors upon Dorian's approach, opening and closing them as needed. A slim pretty man with dark hair and blue eyes, he gave a shy smile and then retreated towards the kitchen to fetch afternoon tea for the guest of the lady of the house. The most notable thing about the house once entered - the air was chilled as if ice lingered somewhere.
The most notable thing about the lady herself once the living room entered - Llyw was nothing like Dorian might recall of her, yet it was her undeniably. Swathed in dark silk robes of an Asian design, her hair long and loose in an unnatural shimmer of silver to dark ruby red, her face delicate and pale as ever but now adorned with small rubies clinging under her sleepless eyes and upon her brow and chin....and gleaming across her exposed collarbone. Pale arcane symbols etched her skin there, leading down out of sight on her slight bosom. Her hands and feet were bare yet black as pitch with whorls of dark red coloring and her nails were long and sharp. She had pointed ears as well....and horns dancing with tiny flames curling from the back of her head crystalline ruby red as well.
Llywellynn as she was truly seen, smiled warmly to Dorian, quite glad to see him. Her thoughts gently knocked at his mind to be let in to greet him...
Dorian (alexandros.lycomedes) carried a bottle of Armagnac from a few decades past in one hand leaving the other free, ring-bedecked appendage ready for punching or shoving or shaking or doors. When he was met by Eli at the door he'd smiled politely and thanked him. It would have been polite not to gawp and boggle, but upon seeing her, he'd blink, grasping the bottle more tightly say out loud and in mind, "LLYW? Is that YOU?" He drew nearer bending and narrowing his eyes at this much changed person. For his part he was clean shaven and in his usual well tailored attire.
He knew she saw him as if his glamour was not there, which should have lead to some ability to conceive of what he was seeing; however, the lady had looked such a certain way each other time he'd seen her and the change was a wild surprise which played across his fair fine features in either form.
Lady Llywellynn Devoreaux Esher: Llyw was abashed at Dorian's reaction, though it was perhaps a great surprise to show herself to anyone who didn't already know. She didn't yet realize just how different she looked, her habit of not looking in mirrors leading to an underestimation of her looks now. But she beamed at him nonetheless, taking in the Sight of the deathless eldritch true form of him, gilded silver upon gold of his form and face and eyes...and of course the myriad of other eyes peering from his wings staring into her.
But regardless Llyw was happy to see Dorian, lifting her left hand to wave dark fingers at him. Her right arm stayed laying somewhat limp, the edges of bandages peeking out of the right side of her robes. There was a long but faint healing scar across the base of her swanthin throat, which might suggest the reason her voice so soft and quiet and accented Cajun French came through between his ears rather than from her unpainted lips.
<Oh, Dorian! Yes! Yes, its me....As I really am. Its only fair, right? Its so good to see you. I hope you are doing well? Is your sister alright? I...heard her I think somehow...before what was in the fog got me, you see...>
She was speaking with her mind to him rather than trying to use her voice, a tumble of greeting and questions she had pent up during her convalescence. She gestured to the nearest chair with her usable hand, a slight line forming between her brows as the strain of telepathy hit her, but she persisted, <Please make yourself at home. The young man is Eli and he is here helping me around the house. He will bring some tea for us...But I see you brought the good stuff!>
Her uncanny eyes he had seen before, bleached of color except for the crimson pupils alighted on the bottle in the man's hand, lighting with delight. She was a lush he perhaps knew well by now regardless of her appearance. Only now did shyness flush across her cheeks, looking away as she rested tiredly upon the couch, fever and the dust making it slightly hard to focus properly, though the chilled air kept the worst of it at bay.
<I realize..it must be quite the shock...You can ask, if you want to know anything, you know. I trust you, Dorian.> The Lady's sweet beguiling scent was replete in her house of course, possibly strong enough for even Dorian's senses to make note of, but thankfully he was not one of her more predatory friends.
A slight affect would perhaps grow the longer one stayed in Esher's house, along with the chill air beating back the foggy summer heat, there was a slight pleasant relaxing feeling that might accompany.
Dorian (alexandros.lycomedes) closed the distance and after a bow, all during which he was staring with his eyes in his face with their fiery gleam wherein time's angles were bent and burnt. He'd then hand toward her the bottle, leaning it upon his other arm like a sommelier, while he listened to her silent voice. He'd explain, aloud, quietly, "I did not know-" He swapped to the inner voice, <that we could even speak like this.> Then again, he'd long thought he could only speak to his twin that way, it was always sudden how intimate the voice was when unspoken, to him anyway.
He could not seem to get done with comparing what he saw to what he thought he knew and those both against any possible explanation of just WHAT she was. It just was not the sort of thing one asked, aloud or psychically. He did however move to plop himself down upon the couch too, suggesting, <After tea we can get into the Armagnac, yes? You are rather a stunning lady, more than I knew, if you will forgive my saying so. The fog has been bothersome for us as well, and along those lines, let me dispense first with business. The business of what hour on the morrow shall I send Hiromi to you?> A one side grin crawled up his face to punctuate the cheekiness of insisting she hire on the bodyguard once and for all.
Dorian's stare was skin prickling, so intently focused from his own eyes this time Llyw had to bite back a gasp. Llyw gently waved off the bottle he presented so formally, directing him to set it on the nearby table rather than exert herself more than necessary. She sat in the way recovering invalids did, almost bonelessly slouching against the velvet seating and only moving her head and one hand as needed. She was likely not fit to see anyone but as was her general habit she was stubbornly powering through whatever she thought she needed to. In this case she truly wanted to see the younger Windgrace in person, a smile lingering soft at him as the time defiant being claimed a seat cushion next to her. Hearing Dorian switch from his out loud voice to the mental one did startle her slightly, having one's voice heard within the mind did seem so much more close than normal speaking distance, but there was no helping it while her throat continued to mend.
<I didn't learn how until recently.> Llyw explained, sharp tipped fingers indicating the scar on her neck, <And not really until I needed to use it, I suppose.> She had just managed to look at him directly again after his stare, his time bending appearance always an unsettling experience for the seer. The compliment flamed her face however nearly beet red for a moment, and she looked away shyly again, presenting her profile bedecked in gems and the backswept curl of shiny fire wreathed horns. <I...thank you...I, uh....Yes, a drink after would be smashing.>
Llyw's inner voice was just as flustered as her true one would have been, clearly unused to such flattery, before she seized on the rest of his statements for drink and business. Bothersome was the understatement of the year in true British fashion for both his family and herself but she left that question for later, turning back to see Dorian's cheeky grin. His offer of bodyguard apparently he intended to actually make happen with no further delays this time. Perhaps third time was the charm after all.
She matched his grin for a brief moment, showing a cheekier side of herself than he might have been witness to, but then she was showing nearly all of her real self to him now. <Alright, alright, I will accept of course. Mid morning would be perfect if Hiromi is available. Thank you again for offering her services to me....I suppose I do need a guard more than ever.>
Llyw tried to get over her brief flush, though a hint of color remained coasting her extremely fair skin, perhaps a touch of the fever that always raged through her, sending dancing flames of it to the top of her head. Her eerie gaze found his again, embercrimson to silvered gold, searching his face with concern, ever thinking of others rather than herself, <How are you, my friend? I've missed chatting with you. I suppose we are neighbors now, as you can see. You know you are welcome to visit anytime...I should be back on my feet soon, according to my doctor.>
Eli reappeared at this point, rolling in a tea cart laden with the best of the English tradition of it, with hot scones and lemon curd and steaming pots of Darjeeling and Earle Grey on offer. The slim man ducked back deeper in the house after that, clearly even more shy than Llyw.
Dorian (alexandros.lycomedes) chuckled when he saw her blush girlishly, in with a face full of mischief that made him look much younger than his hundreds of years. He'd answer, <She shall report midmorning. And--Oh, this is new to you? It takes some getting used to, I have had years, centuries really, to practice. I thought for a long time it was just Dinah and I. Since we have come here, there are so many more... practitioners. Or perhaps it is this place. You know... I did not look like--the way you see-- like this until some months after I moved here. And change, like this... after so many years of knowing my face, it was.... an adjustment.> He was still getting used to it. To having more of a toolset if fury was needed. Strength and being blessed with a symmetrical face had taken care of most things money did not. His spectral wings hanging faintly behind him were new, like the inner fire concentrating to peek through his eyes in that xanthic glare, also a novelty from Callisto.
He reached for the pot of tea to pour for them both while looking her way before doing so to get her consent.
Lady Llywellynn Devoreaux Esher: Llyw was drawn from her lingering shyness by Dorian's admissions. She peered back towards him fully, her own face one so recently changed, though she hadn't seen it in many years anyway. Hundreds of years lived behind the man's youthful good looks and mischievous grin. A notion Llyw could not truly fathom, only 26 years on this earth and every one of them a misery in some way. The commonality between such a deathless man and the accursed seer was of both being affected by the island they both resided upon perhaps. She reached out to him, a gesture of sympathy that swelled in her, to pat the back of his nearest hand if allowed. If so, her touch was hot as the wafting currents coming from a hearthfire, careful of her sharp claws, fingertips light as a feather. The fog ensured there was no revelation of sunshine streaming through the windows for her this time, though a certain lightness she could perceive out of the dull grey world she always Saw. Only Dorian and other supernatural beings stood out in full vibrant color to her...and now herself as well.
A fact she was still getting used to herself, so perhaps she could sympathize at the very least. Her expression softening further towards him in any case, <Oh, I am sorry you've had to deal with such a thing. It...is rather hard to see oneself properly. To see a stranger's face there....its difficult to feel like one's self, in your own skin...At least for me.> She nodded to his offer of tea gratefully, clearly in need of help for even simple things for now. She was still frail though perhaps in different ways than he might recall. But she was still here and that was all that truly mattered.
Her tone was softer too, rolling the words with her exotic accent unconsciously even within the telepathic ways, <I...couldn't look at my face for many years..Not without just seeing a dead rotting thing, like every other person I Saw. Only coming here changed all that....The changes I'm going through. I don't know my own face. I see a grown woman...when all I remember is a girl.>
She gestured to herself again, a sad smile curving her mouth now, her gaze wandering over the ghostly arcane wings that glowed behind his broad shoulders, braving the bone aching stare of all those time angled eyes. <May I ask...what happened?> Llyw asked Dorian delicately, almost bashful but so curious to know more of her friend's life and circumstance if he was willing to share more, every tidbit only inspiring her curiosity further.
Dorian (alexandros.lycomedes) reached after she patted his hand to place his other hand atop hers upon the back of his hand, and he explained why, <If it helps you see the world... the trees.> There was a pause as something genuine, wellwishings and an earnest desire to help softened his grin. He went on, voice running trippingly in thought as it did when uttered by the tongue, <I cannot speak much to what happened without being indiscreet; however, I shall own to it being a moment of pure joy. A moment of weightlessness, and then, it was true.> He'd never been the one who compared himself to Apollo, but he took to heart the golden glow attributed to that member of a long dead pantheon. Already being tall and yellow haired might have helped him along in appearing like an eldritch-grecian godling. One who was blushing when considering that night when he'd changed, faint roses blossomed upon fair cheeks but he did not get flustered, only had to stop himself running away upon such considerations.
Dorian was given to speaking more readily, it seemed, when silent, because he continued even more, <It is alright, you see, my disguise is easier to keep in place, at least to most people, because that man is still much of how I see myself. Good thing too, that it is recent, because it would have made naval service harrowing.> It spoke to the soldier in him that that would make such service worrisome rather than the close quarters and ravages of war and long tours.
Lady Llywellynn Devoreaux Esher: Llyw's touch was stilled by Dorian's friendly palm, her hand small between his, both she and he endowed with heat to make the combination of hands defy the cold air and gave a greater wash of light and color to her world. His desire to help her this way touched her as he did, a blush riding her face once more. She smiled back as soft, again marveling at the graciousness of the first person in Callisto to truly help her and to continue to do so in such gallant fashion. <It does, help so much. Thank you, Dorian. You've already done so much for me. Asking for such a thing seems too forward of me, I hope you don't mind. I truly hope I can repay your kindness as well. Please do let me know if I can help you in any way.> Her tone was so earnest in answer to his helpful expression, her guideline always of kindness to give and receive as the most important. Her inner voice fell silent, listening to the normally rather blithe reticent man offer some insight into his own life to her.
Her own life was still much a mystery, even to herself, but Llyw looked upon Dorian's acquired golden glory, saw the bloom of color on his own pale skin, though she of course did not know why. She had to close her aching eyes after a moment however, his true nature always a radiance she was not used to along with the many eyes that gazed through her essence in a constant undertow. The notion however stayed with her, almost whispering the thought to herself as she contemplated her own state of change <You made it come true? I wonder...> She stopped herself from further speculation, not wanting to think on the matter while company was present. Llyw frowned slightly at Dorian's mention of the war, but it was a constant backdrop to life at this point since it had dragged on for so many years. But the matter of Glamour made her wince slightly.
<I've yet to quite understand how such illusions work....I never had to deal with such things until this happened. I thought it best..to just let you see me. Since I've Seen you all this time.> She couldn't even imagine on the circumstances he spoke of, having no experience with boats or the sea until making the one horrible trip from the mainland to here to escape her past. <When did you serve? If I may ask? I hope you don't mind me asking...I am wanting to know more about you, if you don't mind. I'd love to hear about your life if you wanted to tell me.> Her mental tenor was wistful almost, as much a burning curiosity for the man himself as it was for whatever he surely must have seen of the world and got to experience with so many years he had mentioned. Llyw had never gotten to experience hardly anything but what she suffered from.
Once she got back on her feet however, perhaps she would take such matters into her own hands. A gleam of this might shine in Llyw's eyes slightly but she was leaning on the couch smiling warm at Dorian, just happy to be visited by him whether he wanted to answer her or not. Any questions concerning her own circumstances and exotic unnatural appearance she had already indicated she was willing to answer if she could, if his own curiosity prompted such things during this friendly teatime.
Dorian (alexandros.lycomedes) was possessed of warm blood, so that he could manage the slight chill in the air with no problem. This meant that his hands and hers were both far above room temperature. He would want to see colour whenever he could so he was happy to offer such a simple thing. Such a chaste thing, that for him was not so common outside of his kin. He'd move the hand that was atop hers and instead twine his long ring-bedecked fingers through hers gently, casually as she spoke to his mind. Nodding he'd answer, <I believe there is power inherent to this place, and those of us with aether running through us, and arcana, we're awash in.... well.... let us say it is a wonder this isle is yet as quaint as it is, given the benefits. As to my service, let me think...>
His lips twisted as he turned his golden gaze ceilingward to pull the answer from the deeps of time, and when he set his eyes upon her again, the ones in his face, the winged ones did as they would, veiled violet and translucent goldenrod, fluttering nigh silently and only at whiles with emphasis when he spoke in his silent voice, <I first served in what would be called the Spanish Wars, that was the late 17th century. Bloody affair with cannonade and boardings, bloody long time ago, and little loveliness to it compared to my second tour. When I joined their majesties' discovery service in '69, 1769, that was when I got to see much of the world. We sailed all the way round. I got into some trouble, I fear. I lead a mutiny.> He shrugged, as if it was a small thing. It hadn't been at the time. It only was now because it had been quite so many years past and the father who'd bought him out of it had finally passed. The father whose father had been court magus and astrologer, tying the Windgraces to the crown so long ago, and the start of their precipitous rise to the shipping magnates they were today. Here and now, he would punctuate when he waggled his brows inviting her to ask him why then he showed her a vision of a memory, rather than describing it.
A perfect white sand beach, scenic freshwater lagoons, fruit trees laden, friendly inhabitants willing to share. The waters lapped up gentle and green blue in soft swells.
Lady Llywellynn Devoreaux Esher: The Lady was not nearly so used to affectionate gestures of any kind, let alone ones as simple as holding hands, no matter with who and for what reason. Only in the last few months had she even had opportunity to know what it felt like to be hugged or more, or considered interesting in any way. Dorian brought his light into Llyw's death tinged world with the curl of his fingers through hers, warmth building from his high body temperature meeting her fevered one. Her face flushed again, a peachy crimson that spread farther down along her neck to her jewel inlaid collarbone.
She was certainly not dressed for company, probably considered scandalous by society's stuffy standards but her state of recovery took priority. Loose robes of patterned silk wrapped around her slender frame with a basic dark chemise beneath, only her long flow of hair otherwise covering her immodesty, strands catching the light in an almost metallic sheen. Lines of rubies seemed to wander over every glimpse of skin she might inadvertently reveal as she shifted to be more comfortable on the seating, turning to face Dorian as he told of his military life mind to mind.
Her scent continued to unfurl sweet delight to the nose perhaps as he sat close by holding her hand so delicate yet not feeling nearly so bird thin as the last time he had touched her. Llyw was just still reeling at the idea of how old the man truly was, despite his ageless handsomeness. Considering she knew other beings likely as old or older still didn't lessen the shock for this particular one. Perhaps his rather exuberant youthful charm and manner had entrenched into her mind the thought of him as a young noble lord of the peerage whiling his time at port despite his unearthly form and spectral wings crowned in the gaze of eternity hued purple and gold.
Learning that this island might have special properties however didn't truly surprise her. The rumor of such was the reason she had ventured out here in the first place. She truly had no other option to save herself. The cost ongoing for what she had gained so far to buy more time. The seer listened rapt to the lordling's inner dialogue, trying to envision such history, but she could only surmise so much from her limited experience. His waggling brow pulled her flustered view to his to grant that vista to her mind's eye. She had never seen such a place in her life, trapped by her circumstances. A beach so unlike what she knew, a bright sky full of light, water holding such a vibrant color, she was in awe, staring at him in wordless wonder. Both for the given memory and the fact that he could share it that way. Her own mental powers were still a work in progress, the strain of using it tensing her own brow.
<So beautiful....You rebelled so you could stay there? It looks like paradise...> When she finally replied, the wonder softened her tone yet more, even in a mental space that would not be overheard she was nearly whispering to his mind. She tried to ensure that her own mental landscape remained hidden out of sight of mind, nothing nearly so lively and lovely as what he showed her.
Dorian (alexandros.lycomedes) didn't seem to notice, nor to mind the lady was dressed for convalescing. He had a sister who he sat with in robes, and he'd been the one to come calling without properly arranging a time. At his core though, he was just not the sort of person to judge such things, unless they were borne by someone seeking, nay screeching, scandal. When he had a chance to share something about himself with someone he fairly trusted, well, rare experience that it was, despite his age, perhaps because of the age of his form when frozen so that time would flow around past him, he still discussed about his service with a young man's vim. It was such an important part of himself that the dishonourable conditions of his discharge after serving as second lieutenant still stung, and with the image of the beach so too came that feeling, as he explained, <We were already over a year out, and after the shoreleave we had there, fresh air, fresh food, company other than our own... and the captain was mad for making his mark on his last voyage. He decided instead of returning home that we should seek the northwest passage from the west. Which would mean wintering in the frozen arctic, beyond our mandate. I tried to speak with the man, but he would not see reason. He could not see that half the men were ready to murder him for taking them so soon from Fiji. I think I have... yes, I do. Please do not think me vain.>
He reached into his waistcoat pocket and produced his billfold which also had a folded daguerreotype of him in naval uniform with his bicorn. This relic from the early ages of the machine's history documented his unlikely life's length. Scrawled on the back was: Suva, Fiji 1773.
He concluded his tale, <I rebelled because once the men had a taste of that, home was the only destination. I only wasn't arrested because of my father's proximity to the crown and a generous donation made to the crown. I have always wanted to go back, so when it was time to come here, well... I had high hopes, Pacific islands have treated me well so far. This one, though, is a rather different beast. If the Fijians ever saw fog or Deep Ones, they sure did not act it. Blimey, I have been talking and talking, when you are trying to rest. Are you.... you are taking good care are you not, Milady?>
It seemed perhaps he'd noticed a little bit, but there was no judgment, and no indication that he was going to take with him his offering of brandy they two had been too rapt in talking to partake of. It was a housewarming gift, afterall.
Lady Llywellynn Devoreaux Esher: Her guardian's gift continued to burn through Llyw, granting change day by day for her life's continuation. Her thoughts touched upon Jericho briefly where he was currently, a reassuring lodestone always standing vigil within her mind and within the world. Dorian might get only the barest hint of Llyw's own inner world, a place within where her mind wandered. A dark shore and sea of utter black ink with a sky lit by distant ruby fire, far unlike the idyllic tropical scene he had showed her.
The lack of any censure from the man helped the seer from feeling any more self conscious than she already was, but necessity dictated her situation at present. She absorbed the notions he emitted on the matter of his apparent dereliction of duty, but the Lady was not conversant in how the military functioned beyond the results of its damaging capabilities. To Llyw, the Windgrace's rationale to disobey orders made perfect sense.
She peered at the well tended photo of the man in an earlier era bedecked in the uniform of that time and place, looking as dashing as ever. The date scrawled on the back just cemented his story for her that mere words could not, despite all the unearthly things she bore witness to every day, such concrete evidence of immortality could not fail to shake her abit. She gazed up at him with awe and consternation on his behalf, her inner voice tinged with that southern drawl tart with it, <Well it certainly sounds like you did what was right. Not that showboat caption wasting everyone's time...>
The mention of the fog and Deep Ones however stole all her attention, her gaze sharpening in alarm, fear running through her limbs like water at the recall of what the wraith had been shrieking about while nearly tearing her to pieces. She would be glad for the gift of brandy to warm her nerves after this no doubt about that.
<Jericho and Eli have been taking good care of me, please don't worry..> Llyw replied almost absently but her thoughts were in turmoil now, Dorian possibly getting a searing glimpse or two of the attack in question, the gibbering warnings, the terror lurking in the sea it fled. Her hand tightened in his unknowing, her talons pressing tips upon his skin though no further. She was clearly not used to having them yet but she was staring at him now with worry, worry for them both, worry for them all on this small island.
<Deep Ones? What are those? Is that what is in the fog? Oh gods...> Llyw asked Dorian, agitated now enough to sit upright with some effort, remembering belatedly of his sister's psychic scream warning of something like this, something terrible coming from the sea for them. Her enjoyment of his company had banished all such terribleness from her mind for a short while, but now her concerns were returned full force, the reminders of the dangers still scarring her body and causing her pain.
<Do you know how to stop them, Dorian?> she asked the staunch ageless soldier the most important question in her estimation.
Dorian (alexandros.lycomedes) only relinquished his loose grip upon her hand when he moved to stand. Once on his feet he'd bow and begin to make promises, "Next time, maybe I will tell you about the Turkish prison. For now I will leave you with this. The girl you remember--she is long gone, and the woman who has taken her place, she is a beauty that you can take pride in. Hiromi will be here on the morrow. She is an excellent young woman, and now she has her spectacles she will be able to keep an eye on you. She is proficient in karate and judo."
That said, he'd look to her to answer her silent questions, <Do not worry, Llyw, whatever this is, it isn't as strong as we are. It isn't as strong as my faith that we shall triumph because this isle is ours, and none will take it. The people of this isle are... fierce and this place could be a paradise. I know I for one shan't be chased off from this one, because this one is home.> The rogue's smile came back to play, cocksure and ready for a fight. He'd point to the bottle of brandy and assured her, <That is to welcome you to the area, from the family Windgrace. If there is any left when I come to visit, I might be disappointed that you liked it so little. Until then, Madamoiselle> He appended with a flash to his grin, and would turn on his heels to head to the door and darken her doorstep no longer than he already had in this nigh surprise visit.
Lady Llywellynn Devoreaux Esher: As swiftly as he had arrived the younger Windgrace lord bowed and swept out of Esher's house. Llyw was left to wave farewell somewhat still reeling from his visit and flustered all over again to counter the fear of the unknown troubling her. His assurances did help her worries somewhat and she gave him a small smile. <Always a pleasure to see you, Dorian. I hope..I feel you are right. I will certainly fight to keep safe here. I will of course help you and yours for all you've done for me, you can count on that. I hope we can chat again soon...> The strain of the telepathy caught up with her then and she had to fall silent, reaching for the brandy her friend had left for her.