(1875-10-07) A Mild Compulsion
A Mild Compulsion
Summary: Shirlyn meets with Mattias, after the dream…
Date: 2019-10-07
Related: A Godly Request & A Godly Undertaking
NPCs: One slightly annoyed tailor.
Players:
Shirlyn  Mattias  

The Bank.
Rather banky. Full of rolls of cloth and other sundry deliveries. Lots of wine.
1875-10-07

The Banking House of Thynne has seen much and more of the Tenebrae colors as of late, but this time she is more than expected. Baroness Shirlyn's brow quirks as she dodges a bolt of fabric that suspiciously looks like cloth of gold, and another palette of wine casks being lifted to a cart carefully. "What in the bloody Abyss…" her eyes trail about, noting the immense amount of hubbub around the Banking House, and an older looking gentleman, red faced with anxiety. She sidesteps the man as he, yet again just from the few moments watching, runs his hands through his hair. With a sigh and a swish of red riding skirts atop brown leather breeches Shirlyn makes way through the door of the Banking House and to the back where she no doubt will be greeted warmly. Unless this is backwards day and she wasn't informed….

Mattias steps on out to meet Shirlyn, and indeed gone are the chains of office, for shrouding his frame are robe sof gold, unfinished, marked with chalk, and many a pin keeping the entire ensemble together. That and within Mattias' wake follows a rather flustered tailor who is trying to keep pace, and keep the Chancellor still. Not that it works as Mattias grins broadly and welcomes Shirlyn with a sweep of his billowing golden sleeves, "Welcome! I am having this great city host the finest and most extravagant Ball ever… after all, why not?" For one facing the iminent death of millions, and himself numbered amongst those souls, Mattias seems in remarkably good spirits, "Wine, food, dancing, extravagance of the like never before seen… you're invited of course, your invite should arrive soon enough, though I hope you got my other message, seems your presence is required at this ball, desired even. Such fun yes?"

Shirlyn just stares at Mattias as he flits about with a poor tailor, pins stuck in his mouth, flailing limbs to place another pin without sticking the Chancellor. Shirlyn's mouth mimes a fish for a moment before she flops down on the nearest flat surface, she doesn't even look. Is it a chair, a trunk, a big wooden box, she doesn't know. "I was requested? I…." her gaze narrows and she sighs, "the Goblin King." Finally she laughs and shakes her head. "Oh Mattias, I am so very sorry! Apparently, me seeking out Gods to talk to lead to one…" she giggles even heavier, not looking the least bit sorry, "it's just…. Ha! So he requested me directly then?" Her eyes slide to the garb he's getting fitted. "What are you wearing?"

"The very fellow, he wishes to hold court… and wishes only the finest people, the finest… well everything." Mattias replies as he sweeps his gloved hand to the side, misses the tailor who ducks just in time, and grabs a glass of something that was being carried past for one reason or another, "We're all going to die." The tailor pauses his work to stare up at Mattias, the banker taking a swig of the amber wine, only to pause and gaze downards at the flustered tailor, "In due time, we're mortals… it happens to us all." A wink is offered Shirlyn as he looks back to his dear friend, "Can't take it with us. Might as well spend it, or some of it, keep trying to spend it all, never works." A shrug is offered and the golden fabric shimmers in parts, with the tailor hastily pinning a few more pieces, "I'm going to be a dragon. My own hoard, a vast array of coin, a pile of the things to sit upon, though I do need a throne for the guest of honour, I should contact the Guild of Carpenters… one must dress as something mythic, the guest of honour demands it. Drink?"

"Court? Oh goodness. Of course he wants to be over the top. How did he come to you? I mean, it seems very fortuitous it makes me more than slightly nervous to go through with the plan I have been making." The poor tailor is given a sympathetic glance before Shirlyn covers her mouth with a gloved hand and chuckles. "Indeed, we all must come to an end and we cannot take our wealth with us, but even so this is strange for you, dear friend." There is a sliver of worry that creases her brow before a finger comes up and worries that crease away, perking up at the mention of the ball. "A dragon you say? Well, I don't know how I'm going to work around that, but I suppose it can be. Any suggestions for I am at a loss," she chuckles lightly and nods to the offered drink.

"Oh something on your coat of arms? Hmmm, there's a vast array of stories and tales, though a dragon seemed somewhat apt for a banker… why I might even learn to breath fire." Mattias offers while taking another sip of his wine, while gesturing for that freely drifting tray to be delivered to Shirlyn, for her choice of beverage. All wines. All expensive. And all seemingly flowing quite freely, "Oh he appeared in a dream, as such thoughts often do." A nod is given the poor tailor, though he seems more focused on attempting to keep swirling robes in check, "I felt a compulsion and thought it is sated by setting everything into motion, it was also somewhat freeing… ones mortality and all. We have no way of stopping its inevitable march, might as well go along for the ride, though I'll be damned if I add more bodies to the count, myself, and we all know that getting the other realms to cease being morons for a while is impossible, so let their tally be that which pushes us over the edge…" He looks to the tailor, "Metaphorical edge, ignore us, we're being foolish." And then back to Shirlyn, "But I'll not throw good lives away for that pompous man."

"Hmmm… Could go as Summer Moon." Shirlyn grins, "a bit risque but I'd love a chance to show off my tattoos." There's a laugh there and a sigh. "It's all to bad I haven't been able to pull Emrys out of Tenebrae, very busy lording about it would seem." She plucks what would seem to be a white wine that has her lifting a brow once tasted. "Are those… pears? Delicious, you must have this one at your party," she says with a huff at the mention of a dream. "Effective means of having your undivided attention, I'll give him that."

The poor tailor is spared another glance and an even more depreciating shrug as if to apologize. "We are but mere children, trying to make this party one to remember. Helps us remember our more youthful days, you understand…" Shirlyn says this almost like a question before shaking her head and eying Mattias once more.

"Perfect!" Mattias replies in reply to her suggestion as to 'Summer Moon', "Why one could think of nothing better, it'll be interesting to see everyone's costumes, I'm sure it'll be something to delight in." That said, his own glass soon emptied, he turns to one man standing nearby with a length of parchment and a ready quill, "The pear wine, several barrels, and a few extra for the cellars of the Tenebrae household, delivered forthwith!" A smile is offered the man, who seems to add that to a growing list of requests from the Chancellor, "Youth? I'd rather not, had to kill my last remaining family member… though everything that followed was certainly a delight, an adventure… why the very day we stormed Frederick's manse, good lord that man pissed himself way more than any man should… died far faster than he deserved too." Still, there's a certain shrug as he glances about the vaulted ceilings, and fortress like surroundings, "I'd have loved to be an innkeeper you know, much simpler… very much so! But regardless, you'll be there of course, no excuses! Excellent!"

"Indeed, along with other things I can do to make it special," her brow lifts conspiratorially with a smirk before wiping it away with a small chuckle. "Thank you, old friend. Then if Emrys cannot be there at least he can enjoy the wine. I don't intend on leaving fair Four Corners until the ball. I will be at your disposal!" A mock bow is given to the Chancellor. "Oh dear, in my youth I was waltzing about a mountain with a bunch of old ladies," Shirlyn visibly shivers. "I'd like to think there is something to be said of living a simpler life, aye," she says just as wistfully when Mattias talks of owning a tavern. "Perhaps you should own one, for fun, you can't take the money with you… remember." She finishes her wine and sets the glass down on the tray once more. "Of course I'll be there, wouldn't miss it. You know what they say about him yes?" Shirlyn shrugs as she eyes the tailor. "The God of Prophecy, amongst other silly things. Though his penchant for creating and continuing the Goblin race is a bit abhorrent, but he must find the little miscreants amusing otherwise why make and keep them alive?"

"Why indeed, horrible things, though I suppose they serve a purpose, and after all, there are some of our fellow humans that are equally abhorrent in design, and nature." Mattias replies, "And equally as ravenous, only with power, not human flesh." The smirk says it all as he shifts just enough to allow the tailor to move with him and continue stitching along an as yet unseen seam, while Mattias takes it all in his stride, "Sounds delightful, I'll wager they had many tales to tell a youngster such as yourself!" Oh Mattias just grins at that, even holding back the faintest snort of merriment, "Not much prophecy for him I'd say? I mean what with the end result being a distinct lack of things to offer a prophecy for… as things go. So might as well ensure a celebration unrivalled by all!"

"Ugh," Shirlyn spits out, "I couldn't agree more. I make it my holy mission to wipe out the entirety of Ironhold. Look at me, I'm helping society," the tailor is spared a glance and a shrug. "What, they're more abhorrent than the goblins?" She sniffs and turns her gaze back to Mattias. "Oh, did they!" She speaks of the matrons of the mountain. "I definitely wouldn't be half the woman I am with out them, to be sure, but I also wouldn't wish their tutelage on anyone. They sure knew how to wield a crop!" An uncomfortable laugh greets that statement as she absently rubs the backs of her hands. A small giggle greets Mattias' snort. "Oh… I do so wonder that myself. I had a feeling he'd know the current situation being that he's the God of Prophecy and no doubt a fair amount of mischief, but does he see only ONE future or many? This is what prompted me to seek him out."

"Oh now that is a question!" Mattias replies, "Were one able to ask it, I am sure it is one that would be met with utter delight! Oh if only such a thing was possible!" That smirk remains as Mattias shifts once more, allowing the tailor to stitch a few more stitches, and pin a few folds of fabric, "Life certainly guides us and molds us, would be interesting to think there are many different futures, why with a dash of a quill I can create a good many of my own, or take them away." The grin softens all the same, "Though this shall be a fine event, I've planned parties and celebrations across the entire State, well given money, I'll let them drink it how they please… for once, one nation at least shall be at absolute peace with itself, and damn our quarrelsome neighbours."

A manic grin meets Shirlyn's features and she giggles to herself, likely creeping out the poor tailor. "Indeed, if only," she fiddles lightly with the ring upon her finger, one that she will not remove but only in death. "Thought I guess you would be able to understand why that sort of thing is so exciting and why someone would want that type of power, considering without knowledge we have absolutely nothing," Shirlyn shrugs lightly, adjusting her riding skirts absently. "Yes, indeed, let there be merriment wherever it can be gotten. I can no sooner stop wars in Aequor than I can in Galenthia. I doubt very much that Mel would listen to me, cousin or no."

"Oh isn't it intriguing, I so hope this event gives you all the answers you seek." And for once Mattias' smile is truly genuine, "It shall be an event to remember for all, and very much so for you my dear friend, may it grant insight, and hopefully some measure of respite from a man of great power, if there's one thing Tirth deserves, it is a chance… much as it might be hard to argue that point at times." And with the robes fluttering about him as she tailor rummages for a particular seam, Mattias grins and for once stands stock still, "They love war, gives the populace something to focus on, other than mismanagement, misrule, and general incompetence."

"Indeed," Shirlyn says slowly. "I have little doubt I'll learn that and more." Mattias' optimums is making Shirlyn more than nervous now. "Are you sure you are well, dear friend? Have you rested at all?" She stands and goes to really get a look at her old friend. "Right. Well, no one likes to think about their real problems so they choose to focus on the collective issue instead. So yes. War is one such way to drag the mind away from their daily woes."

Mattias nods, "Oh I am fine, I shall sleep tonight, I shall sleep the sleep of the dead, or the nearly dead, the soon to be dead? But I shall rest well, for it all in the hands of people who know what are doing, all I can do is spend, watch, and get prodded with the occasional pin." The smile broadens some, "Though I'll not begrudge the good man the occasional prick of stately flesh, he has succeeded where countless other blades have failed, barring one, at that damned peace ball… that one drew blood too. But I'm here, the wielder is not. But worry not about me, think of this as my final legacy, just as knowledge will be yours."

Shirlyn nods and smiles, eyeing the tailor a bit with a touch of a grimace. "Yes, do get some rest, Mattias. I'd hate for you to fall ill before the ball due to lack of sleep." She steps back a few steps and sighs. "I think it's a good idea for both of us to rest. I had quite the long journey and seeing that everything is in the hands of those that know what they're up to, I've got little to worry about now." She says in hopes Mattias feels the same way. "I am here to help, Mattias, you need only ask. As for legacies… well, we won't speak of those only hope that we can make one together. Yes?"

"I shall, once I am done being bled by this dear apprentice of the Guild of Surgeons, apologies, the Tailors Guild… I shall sleep deeply and longly." Mattias grins and bows as much as he is allowed by both stitching, and tutting from the tailor, "And worry not, what more can we do but gently nudge and guide? Rest well and perhaps enjoy a time at the public baths, they are entirely snake free now, I am assured most assuredly." A wink is offered, "And as for legacies, I could not agree more."

"Good," she says with a happy little sigh. "We shall talk soon." Shirlyn backs away slowly, clearly unnerved. She's just hoping this strange Mattias goes away with a good nights sleep and with his mission seemingly fulfilled. "Okay then, Mattias. Good eve."

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