*An Unexpected Visit: The Invitation & Gift

Home of Izira Nyte and The Forgotten Layers Inn. Resting in an unnamed magical realm, the place is easier to find when lost if one is without the aid of a map drawn by the lady herself.

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*An Unexpected Visit: The Invitation & Gift

Post by Izira Nyte »

((Alain D'Mourir visits Izira Nyte at her home, The Forgotten Layers Inn, to invite her to the opening of his bar, The Silver Mark. Played out originally in IM 2008.))

~

In spite of the rather awkward farewell... a week passes, and Alain returns to the Forgotten Layers. Usual shoulder-holstered revolver, though this time the detective is dressed a little more noir, in a grey suit (trench coat instead of jacket) and fedora, a blue shirt, and a black tie. He doffs his hat as he enters and takes a look around.

The setting is much the same as before, low lights and a mostly empty inn. Mostly… but not completely. The feline is currently no where to be found, nor are the ravens in their cage. Izira sat on the tender's stool behind the bar, several books spread out around her. She was making notes in a blank book, as she read and translated with two other books opened. The rest, stacked or opened and set aside, were other books of reference. Her hair was pulled back into a bun, a few thing curls framing her face and falling against her neck. Though her entire outfit could not be seen, the top was a white wrap, a lower v-neck, cinching at the waist and ending at her hips. She also wore a skirt of crimson and black boots. But that was not the most notable thing in the inn today... Far to the right, at a table as far away as he could be sat a customer. The man, if you would call him that, was huge. Truly he was no human and could not be mistaken as one. His large head that of a bull, his body covered in a thick layer of black fur. Though he dressed like a traveling salesman of high means. His back was more or less turned away from the woman behind the bar, only able to see her out of the corner of his eye. Before him was a large cup of tea from his homeland and a tome he seemed to find quite interesting.

The minotaur gets a lingering glance, but no double-take - he hasn't seen many, but he's seen one before. He finds a place to hang up his coat and hat and walks to the bar, smiling just a touch. "Is the coffee hot?" He can't help but notice she's dressed prettily, but he doesn't mention it.

Looking up, perhaps she should pay better attention... but with already having one customer in here, she figured she was set for the month. The look of surprise must be about having another customer and not the fact that she's seeing the detective again after what happened. She set the ink pen down, giving him a smile as she abandoned her notes and stood to serve him. "Of course, Detective." Getting a black mug, she filled it with black coffee for him... setting it down across from her and out of the way of books.

He sits, thanking her quietly, taking a slow sip. He's silent for a few more moments, and then moves his hand over the bar. "...I have something for you." Turning the hand over, opening it slowly while he explains."It was sad, and sweet, and... Well. I thought you'd enjoy it." It's a music box. "Maybe you can play it for me someday, on your piano."

For a moment Izira forgot to breathe. But then she smiled, appreciation and pain mingling in her eyes. Taking the music box in hand, her voice was soft, "That's very thoughtful of you, Alain. Thank you." Bringing the box closer, she opened it to hear the tune it played... almost nervously.

He nods faintly, sipping his coffee again... It's hard to understand his reasoning here with this gift, though his desire to make things right for others is a fair guess. The music is sad and sweet, vaguely Slavic or at least Old European in sound... but one of the sad songs that soothes rather than twists the heart. It's written faintly on his face, but he finds it soothing also.

Her body visibly relaxed. It was a beautiful song, indeed. More so.. it was not the song she feared would be playing. And the tune from this box played over the gentle memory of the one from long ago, she let thoughts of it and the giver slip away. Somehow she found her voice, "It's beautiful."

"Of course it is... I have impeccable taste..." He's joking, clearly, but his tone is still gentle. Grin touching his lips slowly. "I don't know of anyone in RhyDin who makes them... but they drift in and out of the antique stores, one at a time."

"Then I thank you again for the find. I will keep it in my study." A nod as she still held it in her hands, slowly closing the lid.

He glances once more at the customer, and then back at her. Adjusting his lean on the bar. "How've you been, Izira?"

She followed the glance as the customer, lips thinning into a line. Far away he seemed to sense it as an ear twitch in annoyance. Back to Alain she replied, "I've been studying." Sure, he asked how she had been not what she's been doing... but the 'what' was a safer answer.

"Find anything interesting?"

"Much can be interesting with the eager mind." She offered a smile, looking down to the book... her eyes skimmed over the translation 'The Binding Ceremony' and she moved to close the journal that was the translation of the original. She had gone back to make corrections and notes here and there.

His eyes flicker to the paper, but he doesn't get to see much. "I'm sure yours is very eager..." He takes another sip of his coffee. There's a lot on his mind, as always... but he opts for the least pressing thing. "I told you I'm opening a bar soon, didn't I?"

"I believe you mentioned it, on a walk? Jean was fairly distracting company." Her expression still friendly, but it seemed guarded as well.

"He's quite the playboy," he agrees with a soft chuckle. "We open on Thursday evening. I'd like it if you stopped by, if you're in town."

"I will keep your invitation in mind." A glance back towards the minotaur. "Would you like to come with me while I put this somewhere safe or do you have pressing matters to attend to?" Asked as she held the music box in hand.

He follows her eyes, and looks back at her again. "I can come along."

A nod. the music box was set down a moment as the books were taken from the bar top and put into a safe box under the counter. She picked it up again, indicating to Alain to follow her as she went towards the door behind the bar that led to the kitchen. The kitchen itself was remarkable, a chef's dream. More so when there was cooking occurring, but for now it was spotlessly clean... a few baskets of veggies and fruits hanging about.

He follows her, looking around the kitchen, the little lift in his eyebrows indicating he's impressed. He snatches an apple, goes to bite, and then gestures with it, a silent, May I?

A nod. She led him through another doorway, the leading to a short hall. Dark wood walls, light wood flooring covered in a red carpet. She stopped at another door, opening it and stepping to her study. Another room to be impressed by? The wooden floor ran into the two large rooms, with high ceilings. In the first room a large desk sat, this room and the room to the left divided by only a slight inclination to the walls and ceilings and a fire place centered between the two . Both rooms were lined with shelves. Bisecting every now and then by floor to ceiling windows. This first room holding various items of interest (one of the another music box, place high and far away) and some books.. while the room to the right was full of books where there wasn't large windows. There perched a large couch, a love seat and two arm chairs around a short table. Before the fire on the study's side laid a black bearskin rug. Another door was open to the left just a crack.. and through it the impression of a bedroom. Izira moved to the desk, setting the new music box upon it.

He looks around slowly. "I like what you've done with the place," he half-mutters. Eyes linger on the music box, and linger a little longer on the bearskin rug... leaning just a little to get a closer look. Certainly able to appreciate such an impressive predator. He drifts towards the books, examining the titles.

While some titles would be in languages he perhaps could not understand, there were a few that were not. Most the volumes seemed to deal with magic, though there were also guides for business and fiction and non-fiction alike. Izira had a lot of time on her hands, and she spent it mostly reading. A little quirk of a smile, "If I didn't do anything with the place I really would have been wasting my time here."

He lingers on one of the business volumes - he's technically a businessman now, after all. "You bought this place?" Looking over at her.

"It seems to think so." A faint smirk. She moved around the desk, opening a drawer and producing a deed, speaking as she did so. "Technically I stumbled into the place. You should have seen it then. Near death with no one to care for it... It was a while after I started working on the place that I found this... but it's legal." Truth enough, the deed said the inn belonged to her, though in truth she sometimes thought it was more her that belonged to the inn.

"An inn that writes its own contracts... Think it's haunted by a lawyer?" He looks around at the walls and ceiling suspiciously.

She laughed softly. Putting the contract away, then staying on the opposite side of the desk from him... taking a moment to look over the items on the walls herself, she knew where the other music box was at... and did not look there.

"Maybe you can give me pointers on keeping my bar afloat... I don't keep any rooms to rent out, but it's still the same mechanics." Tapping the business book some, idly.

"You can borrow anything you want." Gesturing to the books. "Not sure how well I'd do to give you pointers, don't really have many customers to speak of."

He grins. "Yeah... I've got people working for me at the Silver Mark, so I've got to make sure it turns a profit." Rubbing at the back of his neck some, well aware of the fact they are alone in her study - feeling the tension acutely. "Fortunately, I've had a lot of cash coming in lately from other contracts."

"Do I owe you anything else? I know you said that we would be even with me helping you out... but... I don't want to short you." Izira seemed to be feeling the tension as well, but it was another kind. A worry. A feeling that had been crawling over her skin since he produced the music box. At the same time she wanted to keep talking to him, she wanted him to go and leave her to her loneliness, which she'd gotten used to.. in a way. The room was warming up and it was probably Izira's fault.

He shakes his head slowly. "No... you paid fairly for the terms of the contract. Cash isn't a problem right now, anyway." He notices it getting warmer, though it doesn't occur to him why. He undoes one of his shirt buttons. "I should be going." Holding up the book."Mind if I borrow this?"

"As I said, take whatever you please, Alain." She only slightly moved from behind the desk, looking away and straightening the music box at the corner.

"Thanks. I'll see you later, Izira - hopefully Thursday night." He moves towards the door, looks back once, and leaves.

She wonders a moment if he will find his way out, but then again.. it was a simple route. She moves back to the desk, falling into the large chair. Eyes going to the music box on the desk to the one on her shelf. Her expression of pain loss into the air. In the main room of the inn the minotaur is gone, money left on his table along with the empty cup.
Last edited by Izira Nyte on Tue Oct 01, 2013 11:40 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Izira Nyte
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Post by Izira Nyte »

Izira sat in the chair behind her desk for a while. Attention turned away from either music box, she closed her eyes and focused on breathing. Just breathe. Bit by bit the heat left the air about her. Once calmed she opened her eyes and returned again to the common room of Forgotten Layers. Borchsek, the being that had been at the table drinking tea and reading, was gone. It was a small blessing as his visits were never something to which she looked forward.

She moved through the break in the bar, making way to his table to collect the dirty dish and payment. Even if she had been around, he would have left his payment in the same manner. Izira had gotten used to Borchsek’s ways. He only came here when it was a faster trip between his travels than returning home. Some time ago he found the place, following a trader who would not sell him the supplies he brought to Izira. Tea from his homeland, in the hands of a half-breed. That is what he hated most about Izira. His manner was polite, if cool. She hadn’t picked up on the underlining dislike until translating some of the words he spoke. “Dirty half-breed.” What Izira had originally chalked up to an unsocial manner in the man turned out to be the result of racism. Still, business was business and she didn’t turn him away.

Now, as she carried payment and dish back to the bar, she considered that the mind sent of her customer would be the same of her father’s people. Difference being that none of them would even be willing to knowingly set foot inside her inn. Sadly, Izira recalled the memories given to her by her mother. Her father had not care that she was given to him by a mortal woman. Her father had stood in awe of what had become of the love they shared. But her father was not typical of his people.

Money put away, dish washed in the sink, Izira considered her father’s people... the Ny’Halian. Unlike him, who traveled and sought out the company of mortal men, his people kept shut away. They preferred to deal with their own kind and the idea of mixing blood was disgusting. They were a haughty people, unkind to outsiders. Still, through her recent readings about them, she admired the structure they held within their own communities.

Hands dried, Izira took the books from their hiding place… opening the journal that held the translations from the original book Alain had brought her from the Ny’Halian. The binding. She turned through the pages until she found the spot she’d been on when Alain had arrived. Izira had lost count of how many times she had revisited this section of the book. Though, everything else held some interest to her—the rituals for courting, marriage and death along with many other topics, it was the binding that captured her attention again and again.

Your gift is Powerful—But not yours alone.

The Elemental Gods loved their children and because this love was so great they gave to each a unique gift. Fire, water, air or earth were blessed upon every newborn child as the first breathe was taken in. But the gift, while kind, was often too much for one to withstand and so a guardian would bond with the child, sharing the gifts between two. Throughout the life of a Ny’Halian the bond was often remade with others, giving strength to the ties of their community.

Following the explanation was a guide on how the bonding ritual should be preformed. Blood and knives, the usual elements for many rituals Izira had seen for any culture. The words spoken were different and went on at length. It did not appear to be a short ritual from what she read. Somewhere in the middle of the page her eye caught on two words, ‘Shared Breath.’ Izira pulled the original book to her again, flipping through until the drawn image came into view. Two mouths open near one another. It was not a kiss but still a feeling of intimacy lifted from the page.

Her mind wandered to the sad little kiss she had given Alain. Ten years. Ten years locked away from others to keep from getting hurt and to keep from hurting others. True there were broken hearts in her past, but it was the memories of when her gift got out of hand that kept her away from others. She recalled the woman, Dytannia, from the last place she had stayed before finding Forgotten Layers. Izira had loved her too, in a way… but anger had gotten the better of her. Izira had nearly burned down the Tavern that Dytannia called home. More the crime for Dytannia and the living tavern, Silver Rain, had shared a soul. It was no surprise that Izira had been sent away. Forgotten Layers had taken her in.

Away from people, closed off from feeling, the fire in her veins troubled her less often. That also meant she was alone. Bonding with someone might have been an answer, except there was no one with which to bond. A muted sigh escaped into the air. Izira was not upset to find another dead end. Strangely, she was at peace with it. Solitude was known, she was used to it. Opening herself to someone, to bond with another… on a level possibly deeper than that she had shared with Jared… was unknown and scary. And that fear had increased since Alain had given her that music box. He had Cassie, she knew. There was really nothing there to fear… still, Izira felt like she was playing with fire.

Decided, she took out a clean sheet of paper and started writing a letter…
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Izira Nyte
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Post by Izira Nyte »

Izira had put the books on the Ny’Halian aside, centering her attention on the blank sheet of paper before her. Within her mind she worded and reworded what she wanted to write, then decided it would be better to just start writing.

“Alain –“ She started with the ink pen scratching against the surface of the paper. A Pause before she continued…

“I thank you sincerely for the invitation to the opening of your bar. However, I will be unable to attend.”

She considered if she should leave it at that. Surely she could, but… she wanted to offer Alain a reason for her not being there. She didn’t want him to assume the worst. But she also felt hesitant about telling him the truth— that she wanted to stay locked away safe without anyone putting ripples into her pond. A partial truth would work… recalling the heat of the study from earlier.

“My gift has been unstable as of late and I do not think you would thank me should I accidentally burn your bar down on its first night open to the public.”

Another pause, her emotions a mixture of troubled and amused. Izira would like to think that it couldn’t get that bad. History would tell her differently.

“I hope the affair is a grand event for you and all who attend.”

Signing her name at the bottom of the short note, she dug out an envelope addressing it to Alain and waited for Hope or Light to arrive back from the hunt. One of the Ravens would deliver the letter for her.
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Izira Nyte
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Post by Izira Nyte »

[[Original post made by Alain's player]]

When the Raven returns to Izira, it returns with another letter.

Dear Izira,
I'm sorry you can't make it to opening night, but thank you for telling me in advance. You're right, though - new bars and magical fires tend not to mix.
I hope you're doing better. Enjoy the rest of your week.
~Alain

His handwriting is a more or less neat semi-cursive, the letter itself closed with a wax seal bearing the eye of Ra, a symbol sometimes associated with S.P.I.
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