St. Azazel's Academy [O]
Jan 21, 2015 7:30:20 GMT -7
Post by Deleted on Jan 21, 2015 7:30:20 GMT -7
The halls were beautiful. They were stark compared to the interior of say, perhaps, a mansion, but they were in part of marble and had a mien of sanctity and... intellect, in the strangest way. Even though the Accosi mansion was more on the variegated and gaudy side of things, Lucrezia had grown to find comfort in the imperiousness of the Academy's architecture.
The pair's footfalls reverberated about them as they walked. Lucrezia was remaining quiet; not forcibly or pointedly, but simply because it was more or less her default state. There was also a certain gravitas to the occasion; forthcoming was (no doubt) the most important directive they had received in the past few months, and perhaps their entire lives.
When the hall opened before them into the (seemingly unnecessarily) large room in which the Taskmasters resided, they were greeted immediately from around the corner by an austere-looking middle-aged woman - roughly of an age with Lucrezia's own mother - who had papers in her hand and hauteur in her face. She spoke to Lucrezia with cordiality that, during, the addressed realized she knew the woman's name - Calvina Salvai. She had supped at the Accosi manor not a year ago, when only Lissandra, Lucrezia, Bianca and their guest had been present. A family friend, as it were - or else one of many, many acquaintances. Though on that occasion, the children of the family had hardly been permitted to say a word.
"Mother Salvai," She acknowledged, bowing her head respectfully; not really a requisite gesture, but good measure, especially after being complimented from someone so esteemed. She was quietly irked by the way the woman subsequently spoke to Victor. Lucrezia was remembering swiftly that Calvina and Lissandra conversing had looked rather like a mirror had been set up on one side. Deserter-son? That made her curious. It was certainly a harsh title, though the Accosi girl knew better than to rebuke her superior. Victor remained composed, as ever, to his credit. It invited a measure of the younger girl's sympathy; she realized with a pang of guilt that, if she treated him callously, she was not the only one. Perhaps he was so eternally impassive because, by now, he had been inured to it all.
Lucrezia was clearly the one being addressed when Mother Salvai said, "You and your partner are to travel to the three villages detailed in these documents. Each has reported unnatural events; two of which have had disappearing persons, the third a madness in otherwise perfectly healthy laborers, we don't know if they're related to the events in Occindale, but better safe than sorry. Go with haste, daughter of Lissandra. You and the deserter-son leave with the dawn." Lucrezia accepted the documents with a gloved hand and nodded in acknowledgement. "So it shall be," The girl responded. The older woman nodded appreciatively at the girl's obedience, before journeying back to the arced table at which the other Taskmasters sat, most of them busily poring over documents, or else handing them off to somebody else.
Turning and departing from the room to the comparatively private hall, Lucrezia turned to her partner. "I suppose I shall see you on the morrow at the Gates, once again. Unless there is anything else?"
The pair's footfalls reverberated about them as they walked. Lucrezia was remaining quiet; not forcibly or pointedly, but simply because it was more or less her default state. There was also a certain gravitas to the occasion; forthcoming was (no doubt) the most important directive they had received in the past few months, and perhaps their entire lives.
When the hall opened before them into the (seemingly unnecessarily) large room in which the Taskmasters resided, they were greeted immediately from around the corner by an austere-looking middle-aged woman - roughly of an age with Lucrezia's own mother - who had papers in her hand and hauteur in her face. She spoke to Lucrezia with cordiality that, during, the addressed realized she knew the woman's name - Calvina Salvai. She had supped at the Accosi manor not a year ago, when only Lissandra, Lucrezia, Bianca and their guest had been present. A family friend, as it were - or else one of many, many acquaintances. Though on that occasion, the children of the family had hardly been permitted to say a word.
"Mother Salvai," She acknowledged, bowing her head respectfully; not really a requisite gesture, but good measure, especially after being complimented from someone so esteemed. She was quietly irked by the way the woman subsequently spoke to Victor. Lucrezia was remembering swiftly that Calvina and Lissandra conversing had looked rather like a mirror had been set up on one side. Deserter-son? That made her curious. It was certainly a harsh title, though the Accosi girl knew better than to rebuke her superior. Victor remained composed, as ever, to his credit. It invited a measure of the younger girl's sympathy; she realized with a pang of guilt that, if she treated him callously, she was not the only one. Perhaps he was so eternally impassive because, by now, he had been inured to it all.
Lucrezia was clearly the one being addressed when Mother Salvai said, "You and your partner are to travel to the three villages detailed in these documents. Each has reported unnatural events; two of which have had disappearing persons, the third a madness in otherwise perfectly healthy laborers, we don't know if they're related to the events in Occindale, but better safe than sorry. Go with haste, daughter of Lissandra. You and the deserter-son leave with the dawn." Lucrezia accepted the documents with a gloved hand and nodded in acknowledgement. "So it shall be," The girl responded. The older woman nodded appreciatively at the girl's obedience, before journeying back to the arced table at which the other Taskmasters sat, most of them busily poring over documents, or else handing them off to somebody else.
Turning and departing from the room to the comparatively private hall, Lucrezia turned to her partner. "I suppose I shall see you on the morrow at the Gates, once again. Unless there is anything else?"
