Thread: Playing the Game [ Chai & Razgriz ]

RE Along Came Trouble Ariamella Razgriz Somewhere in the Siberian tundra Cold. Dark. A young woman stepped out onto the thick snow, sinking a few inches before settling on the hardened layer underneath. She was covered head to toe in thick winter-wear, the puffy black pants and equally puffy black jacket swallowing her diminutive frame even her face was covered in a black wool balaclava, leaving her eyes as the only visible feature of her body. Those eyes, an unusual deep violet with golden hues radiating from the pupil, looked up to the dim lighting of the stars scattering the pitch-black sky, only to shut them tight as a gust of freezing wind seemed to cut through her face mask and leave a chill that traveled down her spine and into her legs. She shivered despite the multiple layers of clothing and pouches of chemical warmers that she had slipped into her mittens and boots. They had now proven to be completely useless, and she frowned, annoyed with the weather. A flash of bright, white light illuminated the air around her, and for a moment she saw the complete emptiness that was the Arctic a stretch of mostly flat ground that seemed to go on for a few miles was covered by a thick sheet of snow, and small hills surrounded sprang up in the distance. If not for the glistening white and below-freezing temperature, they could have been standing in a desert it would have looked the same anyway, with the wind-blown dusting of snow like a paler sand, just as lonely and God-forsaken as the Sahara. In fact, why couldn't she have been sent there instead? She would have rather endured the warm desert winter than the harsh cold of the tundra. Why? Ellastaria. A gentle male tenor voice, decorated with a faint Italian accent, pulled her from her thoughts, and she turned around to look at the similarly-dressed tall man who, like she had, used magic to teleport from a small Russian town on the northern habitable part of Siberia to the middle of absolute nowhere. But, unlike her, he had chosen to appear in a dazzle of light and flourish. He was like that, her father. Always showing off even when no one was looking. Or maybe someone was looking magicians often learned to hide themselves even in the most open of locations, and considering their destination she wouldn't have been surprised to find quite a few warlocks or witches prowling around, especially at night. She simply stared at him, one eyebrow raised hidden from view by the mask, of course, but she knew he could tell what her expression was, until he gestured for her to follow him, walking a few steps to the right before stopping abruptly. Light, please, he asked. The girl slipped off one of the large mittens, wincing slightly as the cold bit into her fingers, but gladly conjured up a large light source. She could have done it with the mitten onthe poly-blend mitten was definitely not a hindrance to her magical energybut she enjoyed the feeling of channeling the magic through a bare hand. And right now she enjoyed the warmness that came with the champagne glow of the light radiating down on her palm. With curious eyes, she watched as her father removed both of his own mittens and murmured nearly inaudible lines, all while touching specific points in the space in front of him. It rippled like water, each touch to the air, until he stepped back and let the ripples break backwards in a curved, dome-like action, revealing what they had come for a solid concrete circular building, towering in the Arctic plains, with no windows and only a single visible entrance that protruded from the cylindrical structure. The heavy metal door looked as drab and grey as everything else, and the entire structure seemed to emit a mood that said TURN BACK NOW . Not that she expected anything else. It was a prison after all. Periculosus, the world's storage house for the most dangerous warlocks and witches, magicians, wizards, and sorcerers, was kept hidden away from literally everything and everyone. Lovely place, she commented under her breath, following her father to the front of the building. She leaned her neck back to look at the height while the door opened with a soft creak, the wind blowing snow through the entryway. How many people did this place hold? The question hung in her mind even after she slipped through to a concrete hallway lit by fluorescent lamps, and she extinguished the light in her hand as the relief of room temperature flooded her body. Another shiver ran down her spine, this time in relaxation as if to shake the cold out of her system, and she unzipped the bulky jacket to slip it off, grateful to be rid of the extra weight. They came to a second door then, and before either of them touched it, it was opened by a man on the other side. Lorencio, the even taller man greeted the Italian warmly, shaking his hand and ushering father and daughter inside. Ah, and Ellastaria. Welcome, to both of you. You can take warm clothes off now. Siberia is cold out there but is okay in here. His Russian accent matched his appearance he was tall, muscular, and ruggedly chiseled in the face, and with the way he dressed one could only guess that he was the warden of the facility. Call me Stella, the young woman corrected mildly as she began to peel layers off her body, starting with the snow pants and working upward to finally remove the balaclava that covered her face . What was left was a 5'1 slim figure, obvious even in the leggings and large long-sleeved shirt that hung down just above mid-thigh. The expressive violet eyes were the only sharp quality of her face soft-arching eyebrows framed them above while gentle cheekbones and baby cheeks filled out the rest of her slightly tan face, along with small lips and a tall nose. Honey-brown loose waves hung just below her shoulders, the cut and color somehow giving her a more mature aura in spite of her youth. Not many of her features were ones she shared with her father as he had classic Italian looks thick graying eyebrows, an angular jaw and bone structure still visible despite his age, and full lips. Aside from the nose and violet eyes though his ran more blue they looked nothing alike, courtesy of her mother, a Mexican-Korean woman who had married into the Durante family. Finger-combing through her hair, Stella inspected the interior of the prison, surprised to find it a lot more welcoming than what she had previously thought. Just by seeing the exterior, one would have gotten the impression that the facility was cold and unforgiving, dark and mostly frightening. Strangely, they were standing in what could have been the lobby of a good-quality hotel, with a wide glass window that looked out to the center of the building where a single guard tower stood erect in the middle, and rows of cells with glass doors lined the walls of the circular room. Just by the spacing of the doors she could tell that they were unequal in size, and some were completely transparent while others were dimmed, and still others had an additional steel door behind the glass. Stella tilted her head in minor confusion as she stared, taking a few steps forward to grab a better look at the detainees. One man was... eating a gourmet meal while watching something on the far wall, the change of lighting bathing his room in brightness and darkness each time a scene changed. Stella turned then, an eyebrow in an inquisitive arch and a question already forming on her lips, but she found the warden and her father deep in conversation. ... For you Lorencio, for Stella, we have finest services, the warden said proudly, nodding his head. I want the best candidate you've got, Alexei. You know as well as I do that she'll need it. Yes, yes, of course. I show you, come. We already talked about this. You know who I want. Take me there . Alexei paused momentarily and opened his mouth as if to refuse, then seemed to think better of it and instead nodded his head. Okay. I show you. The Russian led them out to the large circular room and to an elevator, but instead of taking them up, he inserted a key card into a slot which resulted in taking them down . The ride was silent, and Stella knew why the warden obviously disagreed with whatever her father wanted, but heor anyone else for that matterwas in no position to refuse Lorencio Durante. The Durante family was part of the Council of Ten, the ten most powerful families in the magical world. They were families of old status, old money, and old magic, and as such, they oversaw the politics of their world. The Durantes were easily the 3rd or 4th most powerful down the list, evident even in the type of magic that was inherited through their family line. Light-based magic was rare for any person of magical affinity, but it was practically owned by the Durantes, along with their unnatural violet eyes and stubborn temperament. But even more significant was that Stella was now an even larger figure of importance. She was a queen. Well, she was going to be. Royalty in magical society was nothing more than a cultural tradition, a position passed down through time that now held little political importance more than being the face of society. However, it wasn't so much the position that was coveted, but the magical power that came with it. The chosen royalty weren't dangerous enough to be confined within the walls of Periculosus, but powerful enough to be envied. No one knew exactly how royalty was chosen, but everyone knew the signs the silvery-white double-infinity tattoo called the Mark of Aricia, and some level of extraordinary magical talent. At only 22, Stella was chosen quite early most candidates were already into their 30s, still young by their slightly extended lifespans, and it was precisely this reason that she was standing in an elevator traveling down the depths of Periculosus. Shopping around for a bodyguard seemed like one of the best precautions to take against those who wished to see her harmed, dead, or otherwise wanted her for themselves. Not that she thought she needed one, but hey, whatever made her father sleep easier at night. This way, Alexei's voice sounded as the elevator doors opened, bringing the young woman's mind back to the task at hand. If Dregs do good job, they get nice life. But not these ones. These ones too dangerous... But also do good job. And have okay life. He shrugged and waved a hand around, gesturing at the cells around them. They were bigger now, with the same glass doors, but the amenities in these cells were a stark contrast to the cells on the above floors. They were largely plain and empty, and many of the imprisoned magicians had some sort of restraints on them. They arrived at a cell with a steel door behind the glass, and Alexei scanned a card on a keypad to the right of the glass doors before inputting the numerical code. The steel slowly slid up, revealing the occupant inside a man with heavy chains attached to each limb, loose enough for him to move around the sizable room but lacking the length to reach the doors. Alexei rapped on the glass like how one would tap on the glass of an animal exhibit at the zoo, then turned to the Durantes. Each cell has magic suppression, but eh, is better for everyone to have them restrained... Ricendithas! He barked out the name, and Stella's ears perked up. Why did that name sound so familiar...?