little things that define you

Eleanor did her best to ignore how Calyx manor scowled at her from the hill overlooking the town, but despite her best efforts, it bore into her like an inanimate gargoyle. And try as she might, the sense that it would come to life and smite her was one she couldn't shake. She refused to feel guilty for rejecting her uncle's invitation to go home for winter break. After all, it was he who had cast the first stone by naming Mutt after a beloved servant; he shouldn't have been surprised by her reaction and ensuing distance.

So why did she feel like there was something else afoot?

She wasn't able to inspect those thoughts any further as her shoulder knocked against someone else's. "Hey, watch where you're–" Eleanor started to chide him for his carelessness, of course ignoring her own, when those dandelion eyes and matching fluff caught her attention. His name evaded her, but she knew this man. "We've met before, haven't we?" Lord Cecil Calyx often held court at his home and invited the most prodigious families. The Tiamats were one such family whose good books he wanted to be in. Eleanor tended to be most affable during these occasions, supplied with enough food and fruity drinks to tame that unpredictable temper. With neither of those things on the menu today, it was unclear which side of her would appear.

code: elyon | art: ashon

Note for Myself: Set after Nassar's death, before Ahkoris's death He was walking - more like storming - through the streets of Rionna. The sun was just beginning to fall behind the mountains, however there was plenty of life left. Despite this, Sethos paid little mind to other folk gathered in said streets, instead following a path set out in the map within his mind, with a destination he was unaware of. Sethos was a massive man, towering over most and bulky - never mind the excessively fluffy pelt he maintained. Many folks instinctively moved out of his way, either out of lack of space, knowing his family name or at least knowing his station in the Army. And for some reason, many in Rionna now revered the soldiers in the aftermath of the war. This made his stomach sour every time he thought about it, and he now actively avoided any conversation which brought it up. He didn't feel like a war hero, sure as hell didn't think he deserved it, nor did he want this recognition. He had killed someone to get to this point, and he was increasingly unsure if it was worth it. Idly, as he walked through these familiar streets, he wondered what his parents would think of him now. Surprisingly, it was then that someone knocked into his shoulder, causing him to stumble for half a second and mask the wince that accompanied the spike of pain in his spine from being rudely jostled. Orange eyes flickered dangerously, an unknown anger he was not accustomed to roiling within him before he quickly tempered the emotion as his sight took in she who assaulted him. "Hey, watch where you're–" And had the audacity to try to accost as well, it seemed. Ivory brows rose as he forgot the pain that eventually dulled, fiery eyes observing her as she quickly backpedaled to speak something of familiarity. The Tiamats had been invited to many events and parties throughout his life, moreso when Nassar and Ankh were alive, and so his face was well known amongst the other nobles. Obviously, this girl was also highborn and recognized him. "We've met before, haven't we?" she asked, and his chocolate cloaked shoulders rose and fell in a stiff shrug. He could play this game as well; a game of impartialness unless the other was someone official or special. Clearly if he had been anyone else - Gods forbid, a peasant - he imagined her reaction would be much more volatile. "Have we?" he asked back, his observant eyes boring into her, daring her to delve into her memory bank and retrieve his name. Her face was mostly lost on him, but he had the army in addition to the noble houses to remember. He wouldn't deny there was something familiar about her, however. She was pretty - he'd give her that. How odd he was feeling lately, now that his mother was no longer around.

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Eleanor felt uncomfortable under the intense scrutiny of his gaze. But she did not waver, lifting her chin to meet it directly. Look, the coiling tension in her body language warned, but see me unafraid.

Those pristine mannerisms cultivated in the last year and a half since Cecil took her in, assimilating her into this life rich with culture and prestige, showed just how fragile they were as the slightest pressure formed deep cracks. "No, I don't believe we have. In fact, I'm almost certain." If anyone was coming to heel, it would not be Eleanor Calyx. She instead sniffed at him with disdain. "I'd recognize a dumb hulking beast such as yourself."

She gave up trying to bridge their connection in her memory. While it was likely they'd conversed before, and he may have been another pair of lips to have caressed her paw, she wouldn't lose sleep over forgetting his certifiably unattractive face, rugged muscles, or creepy stare.

Better still - her antagonism roused Cecil's voice in her mind, sending him into a well-deserved frenzy. By burning this bridge she was also getting one up on her uncle.

And that notion was enough to make her smile, though it was a sharp and bitter thing still.

code: elyon | art: ashon

Much to the misfortune of the spoiled brat in front of him, Sethos was not himself this day. "No, I don't believe we have. In fact, I'm almost certain." was her catty response, and it was clear by the look on his face that he didn't believe her. His chin raised as the expression on his face darkened, finding her behaviour absurd for someone who obviously thought themselves important. This type of attitude grated against him, causing the hairs along his speckled hackles to raise in annoyance. "I'd recognize a dumb hulking beast such as yourself." For a second, Sethos was stunned. If the woman was digging herself a hole to rot in, that now became a chasm. His ears, previously flattened against his golden helm, now tilted forward as he adopted a well crafted mask of sudden, patronizing interest. It had taken a few moments, but recognition of who this girl was finally registered in his grief-stricken brain. If she wanted to play with fire, he would ensure she would be burned. He remembered how she desperately tried to fit in to the social gatherings. Once, he had felt sorry for her... how quickly opinions can change after a single interaction - how cute she thought she was smart enough to outmaneuver him in a battle she was ill-equipped for. And now, he mustered up all the skills of what being born into a noble household gave. "Oh, I remember you now," the typically gentle man replied, the tone of his voice sickly sweet with a grin equally so, "you're that impoverished little bumpkin that the prestigious - and shall I say generous in your case - Lord Calyx took in, right? He must be so disappointed..." his orange eyes were engulfed in the flames of his ancestry; sharp and bright and hungry for a challenge. Anything to distract his mind from the sorrow he felt. Anything to focus his anger on. So unlike the Sethos that his mother had loved and cherished, but perhaps this new Sethos was who he had been all along. "That must be why he took in that dirty stray and try again - that's got to hurt." Sethos' fierce gaze never wavered as he spat the words like venom from his fangs.

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Her insult landed square against his chest… and fell to the ground between their feet. Eleanor realized too late that what she presumed were flecks of rust was actually burnished armor, impenetrable by words alone, as the hulking beast transformed into a colossal creature that eclipsed the sun, and his adjusted posture cast shadows broad enough to swallow her whole. She at least had the decency to look unnerved by the transformation, taking a small step away to follow the new height of his eyes, which were somehow more discerning with his spirit revived.

Eleanor had always hated how her paws betrayed her by trembling, hated even more that her traitorous toes wouldn’t curl into the gravel to secure her. Most of all she hated that a dumb hulking stranger had this effect on her at all.

Her mouth opened fire off again…

And found that all of the available fire was consumed by his lungs and unleashed back into her face, cruel words that singed her cheeks and left burns everywhere they touched.

You’re that impoverished. little. bumpkin. A life so long ago it felt like a bad dream suddenly became a solid, crushing weight on her chest. Eleanor’s tears, glittering in the sunlit shafts escaping around his inclined head, were impossible to miss. Trembling on the thin line between fight and flight, she started to put distance between them – moving subtly toward flight. She’d fought before: Fought and fought and fought, against Mutt, against Cecil, and where had it gotten her in the end? All those careful incisions to cut the infection out of the Calyx household, only to find that the organs were damaged beyond repair. It was futile, and this would be too…

A weight against her flank expelled the strangled breath from Eleanor’s lungs, lurching forward to stabilize herself. Two rabid gulps replenished the air in them, and with it she regained enough tension in her muscles to subdue her shaking paws, the studs of silver ore in her tearful gaze hardening into diamonds. "Did that make you feel good?" Even if she did connect him to his fiery pedigree, there was no legacy that could be turned against him. He had that advantage, at least. But Eleanor was more accustomed to fighting dirty than her perfectly preened pelt would suggest. Must be the impoverished bumpkin in her.

“Or does it make you wonder if anyone would care enough to pluck you off the street?” She stepped forward, defiant eyes locked on him, daring him to delve into his mind and expose an insecurity now that hers had been brought out into the open for all of Rionna to watch as he shredded it. "Who would care about you if your parents died?"

code: elyon | art: ashon