Thread: Oaths Twice Writ, Thrice Sworn (Umbrale & Erit)

A huff of a sigh left Alisia's lips, as the door was closed behind Chase. Rebuttals and taunts, we have it down to a science..., she mused, brushing a lock of raven hair azure-highlighted hair out of her eyes. A step to the side of her bed brought her to the dresser, and the full-length mirror just to the side of it. Turning this way, and that, those stormy blue eyes flitted about it, and what was shown within. The emotion in those eyes wouldn't be out of place, but was well-enough one that was seldom seen within the winged kitsune's crystal depths. He has the time to rebute my haste, but not enough to voice what his decision would be? It's not like I have to dress for the occasion, or anything of the like..., a momentary pause, and a serious look reflecting in the mirror, before Alisia let loose the bubbly softness of a giggle.Since when do I ever do that, though? The redundant question was answered with the swishing of her tails, hooking through the waist of her cozies, in order to pull them down, even as her hands sought after the lower hem of her shirt. In a flourish, and a few more movements, those clothes were deposited of in the nearby hamper. The glance in the mirror after the actions, was shorter than before, but a momentary glance and nothing more. Dresser drawers were tugged open, other garments brought forth, and in the span of a minute, the heiress was dressed again, ready for the day. Next, was to rummage in the wardrobe-bottom for a bag, of the typical gym variety. Suave-black duffel, with an in-laid zipper for double the pockets o' holding-stuff. A non-existant hop-and-a-skip took her out of the room, and down the hallway, tails swishing idly in the fashion of one with only amusing things on the mind. Abruptly, in a cross-way of halls, Alisia stopped, and took a moment to glance about the place. No other Memoiri's in sight, and the Cadence's were more than likely off in their revelry of Chase's coming-of-age... A slow half-lunge, her legs bent, wings stretching out until their span graced the sides of the walls. The duffel bag was handed off to her twin-tails, which spiraled through the handles, and brought the bag to the middle of her back, vertical and perpendicular to her wings, providing a form so as to not bounce around haphazardly. A flex of her calves, and a spring forward the wings beat a single time, sending the paintings behind her into tilted disarray, and even blowing one vase clear off its stand, as they sent her careening forward. With just a touch of manipulation to the air in front of her, Alisia used the lightest of steps and bounces to race down the halls, having folded her wings back into to avoid making the entire manor a mess. At one point, on her way to the garage, a prompt turn had her extending one wing to catch the momentum, and turn her on the spot. Only a quick withdrawal of that wing saved poor Michael from being buffeted to the ground, not that the love-stricken boy would have been displeased, a pleasant touch to his hormonal mind easing the boredom of errands, was Alisia's prompt burst of laughter, racing by. On the shorter side of eventuality, the heiress ended up outside the elevator to the garage, kicking back on one heel against the wall poising rather lazily for the one she waited for. Not that she looked anymore ready to leave the house, this time-around being clad in the comfort-ease of black sweats, and a contrasting white tank-top that, thankfully, was made for the female form on the sides. The duffel bag rested beside her, while idle fingers tapped away at the wooden paneling. If Chase hadn't learned by now to be prompt enough for his childhood friend, than Alisia would have concerns well-enough for his learning. --------- The Memoiri head nodded his head solemnly, if a bit too seriously, at the agreement of the other male. It was bittersweet, despite his own stubborness on the topi a father would give anything to give his child the place they sought in society, but in some circumstances, it would not benefit them. And, as it was noted, that was the case for Alisia. He would rather have her stew in a bit of bitter resentment, but find peace in later-life, then risk her life in something she had been raised to not know more than she needed of. The elder's lips twisted up at what followed, however, and lit-iron peered up at Lucian with a playful gleam that was quite akin to that of Alicia's own. Chase, being a good influence on Alisia? If-anything, don't we both know that she's a bad influence on him? The rumbling, deep laugh that followed brushed off the bite of it, as just a joke, It is true that they level each other out. If it weren't for my daughter's influence, I'd be concerned for Chase to be a stick-in-the-mud would you not? The topic of Vox Illumina, at this point, was practically a joke outside of Road Camelot, but Brivear knew well-enough the issues with a repeat-offense on their household.I believe it to be more like nine, or ten. The head of Memoiri supplemented, rising to his feet as the conversation seemed well-enough coming to a close with business finished. Do you remember the time they tried to take assault us during the Winter Ball? The looks on their faces, when the two of us stepped outside... Now that, was worth the stained glass and cherrywood a thousand times over.