Chapter 17B - On the Road to Espana

[color=red]Reculed Annaeus Seneca was Spanish, not French. He took the name Flambeau only after he crossed the Pyrenees to fight alongside the Franks. But I can forgive your lack of proper education, seeing as you are not a member of the Enlightened House
(OOC-Play on words, as Flambeau refers to a torch that brings fire or as a source of Light; thus the constant use of the word "Light" in various ways for chapter titles)
[color=red]As for your words of heresy, do know that the Greeks had forsaken pagan earth worship well over a thousand years ago. And your talk smacks of that of a Diedne sympathizer. Do your fellow quaesitores know you harbor such foul thoughts?

:smiley: You may be slightly hotter than Carmen, but she is slightly smarter than you. Be wary of a protracted debate!

There is always mud :laughing:

"I assure you, no one ignorant enough to mistake the address of "Mother" for an expression of worship would be apprenticed by a Guernicus. I understand that your little society has different standards, but know that common sense is requirement for the Guernici, even if it is unnecessary for our blunt weapons."

Carmen thinks silently to herself...
"one...,two...three...four...five...six...seven...eight...nine...ten...stay calm..."

Esteban: "Let's have dinner and talk about the journey ahead. Excuse me while I go wash up and change out of my traveling clothes." With a bow to both ladies, he skedaddles off to his room at the inn. He'll be back a few minutes later.

With an extremely large, pronounced yawn, showing his long, pointed yellow teeth to good measure, Rhadamanthus nuzzles back against his maga's finger scratchies. He blinks a bit, and realizes the cloak has been removed. Arching his back in a long stretch, he retreats up her arm and nestles into her hair. He makes a point of shielding his tiny head from the bright light. Within seconds, Laetitia can feel a bit of mink-drool slowly dribbling down her neck into the back of her dress.

The maga exclaims in Italian, "Are you sure you wouldn't be more comfortable exploring that blond rats' nest? My hair is rather too clean for your liking. A Spanish tart, on the other hand, should be just your style.." She picks up Rhadamanthus by the scruff of his neck and deposits him on the table, hoping to awaken him rudely. Pulling a decorative mother-of-pearl comb from her hair and smooths her locks back into place, before pinning it back with the comb once more.

Rhadamanthus, jolted awake by the impact, lies there a moment in shock. Then he slowly turns his head and looks up at his maga. Observing her boiling demeanor, he looks around the room for the source of her anger. When his eyes land on the fuming Carmen, his whole body slumps in resigned understanding. Rolling his eyes heavenward, he sighs with a much heavier sound than his small frame should allow, and meanders to the edge of the table. Leaning down towards Laetitia's warm lap, he stretches out his long body and none-to-gracefully lands in a heap. Circling a few times for the most comfortable spot, he finally finds the right mixture of warmth, comfort, and darkness under the table. He begins snoring immediately.

Icy Glare....

Carmen takes her leave and goes out flying to clear her head and calm herself

Esteban returns, having washed the road dust away and changed into a clean tunic. Alas, he was not expecting a social encounter so he didn't bring any especially fine clothes. "Well, I feel more presentable," he says. "I do look forward a pleasant meal with you ... and Carmen. Will your companion be joining us as well?"

Laetitia flashes her most charming smile and takes Esteban's arm. "No, Siana has likely already caught and skinned a rabbit, and is likely eating much better than either of us can hope for, now." She grins wryly. "Though if you were anticipating dinner with both myself and the Flambonis, I believe you will be disappointed. She just remembered some pressing business she had elsewhere, and excused herself. I was thinking that we could take the Mercere Portal and perhaps dine at a place I know in Venice. You simply have not lived until you've had bisato su l'ara, alla Venezia."

Carmen went out flying after her last icy glare. She might be back soon.
Gee, Estaban doesn't read women that well, does he? :stuck_out_tongue:

Works for L though :wink:

The way I see it;
Carmen is Betty and "L" is Veronica,
Which makes Estaban Archie!

Sucks for Carmen because Archie chose Veronica in the end.

Or, depending on how you look at it, sucks for both of them-- Archie kept Betty and V at arms' length that whole time as a cover for his true forbidden love. That's why Jughead always wore the crown looking hat, because he was the king of Queen Archie's world.

Getting back to the story, Esteban says, "That's funny, Carmen didn't mention anything to me about any urgent business. She can't have gone far, or she would have told me. She could be back any minute. We'd better stay here."

Looking uncomfortable, Laetitia says, "...She didn't mention any urgent business because she didn't have any. I thought it would be kinder than the truth, which is that she stormed off in a fit of childish temper. I believe it would be unwise to wait, as such would only serve as reinforcement for inappropriate behaviour."

"What, she stormed off simply because you called her a blunt instrument and insulted her Founder? Childish, indeed," Esteban says with a scowl. "Venice can wait. I believe we have business to discuss."

The Italian presses her lips together tightly. "Childish indeed to make such brash accusations as "pagan Diedne sympathiser" of a Guernicus, given all we sacrificed to re-establish peace in the order? And then have a temper tantrum when I show that I am not so easily cowed?" Her face flushes, unaccustomed to such displays. "I do not know the nature of your relationship with her, but if she lashes out with tooth and claw any time you speak with a woman, I pray that your prodigious charm and... excessive good looks are sufficient to prevent her from lashing out at you. But yes. Business. Some place quieter would be appropriate, I think-- she looks about at the bustling business-- "And please forgive me if I am unwilling to discuss sensitive information in the earshot of your temperamental companion."

"We may need that temperamental companion of mine, if we are going into danger," Esteban cautions, "But whom you choose to discuss confidential matters with is, of course, at your discretion. If a quiet corner here will not suffice, what do you suggest? A walk in the night air? I do not wish to go far, as it would be ungentlemanly for me to leave Carmen on her own. I promised her brother I'd look after her." (OOC sorry for the sexism but I do think leaving a woman on her own in a strange town would raise some eyebrows in Mythic Europe.)