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Post by Achréiøs on Feb 24, 2014 23:35:50 GMT -5
{Location: Tower Nine; 65th floor penthouse - Residence of Floraelia Devinian}
Rosencrance Viers let his muscles relax, exhaling deeply as the weight of gravity pulled his body downward, settling it in the way an ancient structure slowly sinks into a more stable, if un-straight, position against its foundation. The way he had arranged his limbs gave the illusion of comfort and stability, even as his legs dangled freely over the side of the stone ledge, arms splayed behind him for leaning support, his palms digging into the ledge's rough stone surface. Viers watched the last slivering arc of sunlight recede behind the Jiv'Undus mountains, plunging the city of Vascxious Sigma into darkness. As the warm, red bath of light gave way to the cold blue-grey of misty night, the streetlamps and lights three-dozen floors below his feet began to flicker on in twos and threes, a haphazard pattern that made the city seem as though it were a chorus of gleaming, wild eyes, waking to hunt in the dark. The view from Tower Nine was breathtaking in the daytime, but at night, all Viers could see through the stream rising from the streets was a second sky, the twinkling lights making out a cacophony of stars, criss-crossed with plumes that resembled the arms of heavenly galaxies. It was easy to get lost in thought while sandwiched between those two skies, and Viers had come to do just that: night had always made his mind waken, drawing consciousness into the more obscure, and effective, forms of reason he enjoyed.
Viers had found this place by happenstance, having taken a side-trip to retrieve an item of importance for Floraelia and return it to her suite one floor below: he couldn't rightly remember what the item itself had been, but he had stumbled upon the roof access to the tower while searching for it, and had vowed to come back once Floraelia was asleep so that he could plan his next move. The Tower, a spire infringing on the dark heavens only a few miles to his fore, was accelerating something. What, Viers had no idea, for access was entirely restricted to outsiders such as himself, and his companion's pillow talk only yielded information about the people that lived and worked in the structure, not the machinations they were working on. Yet, when Viers pressed is ear to the ground, he could hear the rumble, and he was aware that both the Tower and O Holdings, its young, impressionable sister, were the source of the stirring sound. Viers had only the most scant of resources in the city, and should he dare to try and peek any further behind the curtain, his proximity to Floraelia would only do so much to shield him from the terrible reprisals that lay beyond it. Therefore, Rosencrance only had a few options: continue to lay low, biding his time until opportunity struck, or find some way to reach out for help, to establish alliances to bring new and more useful outside resources into the mix. The latter option, while seemingly the smarter of the two when it came for the potential of success, was also the least appealing: aside from his lover, Viers didn't currently have what amounted to a friend in the world. He had been too long gone to the nethers, too far into the mist to maintain any connections to the trappings of humanity, and by such was left as alone out in the cold as a man could be. The fact didn't bother him, not really: it did complicate matters, though, in ways he hadn't forseen. His impulse had always been to resort to force, to gather troops and march forth with all the subtlety of the mythical Khan atop his elephant, but this city, this new world, needed a different tact. He needed an in, and a quiet one at that: his connection to Floraelia, though shielding, would not insulate him from suspicion or harm within the Tower, and therefore the only option was to penetrate the base structure of its sister, O Holdings, and find some crack or crevice through which he could insert himself and spread the virulent tendrils of his influence. Finding the crack in the armor would be the tricky part, but as his mind floated through the wispy night sky Viers knew he had made the right decision: even if he only then realized that he had decided.
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Post by Floraelia Devinian on Feb 27, 2014 21:40:27 GMT -5
While Viers, unbeknownst to the snow-haired Mithrian, lounged atop the roof of Tower Nine Floraelia Devinian, elected Council Member for the Second District in the Trade City of Vascxious Sigma, was very quietly opening the main door to the spacious apartment she kept while staying in the City. It wasn't that she was sneaking around precisely— after all, it was her own residence: there surely was nothing to be wary of in her own quarters. The truth of it was that she was only just arriving home and it was far, far later than she'd indicated she'd be returning when her new “house guest” had asked after her plans for the evening.
Floraelia paused after the catch clicked in the door, listening for any hint that her guest was stirring. It was only on not hearing anything that she swept the cream-colored silk cloak trimmed in thick white fur from her shoulder, hanging the garment carefully in an unobtrusive closet near the entrance. She'd needed the time to think, to process how things had changed in the past few days, and to make a decision on how to proceed. It was less than a week before that she, Viers, and the Wolf of Ouroboros Towers emerged from the steam tunnels after having found a connection from the Catacombs in Karathor's Outpost. It was less than a week since she'd parted ways with the intellectually stimulating Viers, and had somehow managed to stumble across him a third time to share in his discovery of a relic from beneath the City. How that interaction had begun with an invitation to dinner at her residence to ending with her body under his between silk sheets was still unclear, even to her. The Mithrian was a rational creature, not usually subject to a quickened pulse or a catch in her breath.
Of course, even if she wouldn't easily admit it, such was not the case when it came to Aeorex, historically speaking. The man was a bolt of lightning to her flesh, and an ignition of flame in her blood. So, why then, would she bend to Viers' far more gentle approach when it was the Predatory nature of the CEO that had been courting she craved? Floraelia moved silently toward the end of the hallway, glancing into the mirror hung just before the frame gave way to a large foyer. Those jewel-toned green eyes tracked the outline of the ever-present glow surrounding her form before sliding away in refusal to meet her own gaze. It was completely unlike her to be charmed so softly. Certainly Viers was an intriguing man, but just as certainly he wasn't the kind that caused the explosive chemistry she responded best to. It took a few moments to cross the foyer, by pass the living area and then the kitchen; two more doors and another hallway before she was safely in the master suite. Empty.
The Mithrian let slip a sigh of relief, not realizing how much tension lay trapped in her shoulders before that moment. One hand closed the door behind her, lingering for a moment before she turned into the heavy, beautifully carved wood and rested her forehead against its unyielding surface. ”What have you done now, Floraelia? Mithria's Curses. . .” The words were murmured, rhetorical. There was no changing it, but she needed to think and to process how she felt. How to move forward? Damage control, PR. Now that her Tower business had been retired for the evening and she'd taken some time to decompress it was time to calculate her next move and make some decisions. . .
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Post by Achréiøs on Feb 27, 2014 23:03:23 GMT -5
Viers continued to marvel at the Vascxious Sigma skyline, his violet eyes staring at the starlit structures even as his host returned to the suite below. In his mind, he replaced each of the buildings with ancient spires of stone and steel that had once been, each jutting into the night sky as though they were the jagged, broken teeth of a mythic dragon. In comparison, the smooth curves and organic contours of the current buildings were nearly welcoming, though no structure could seem truly inviting when splayed against the backdrop of the knife-like mountains. Viers made the choice to halt his comparisons between old and knew, labeling them within his mind as a waste of time. After all, nostalgia served no purpose, and the city had grown and morphed in ways that left it bearing no resemblance to the fortress that once had been his home, making it more akin to a new, utopian construction than a restoration of age-old relics. Viers would force himself to treat it as such, if only for the sake of countering the mental dissonance created by his mind's attempt at old/new overlap.
The man cemented his plans as he walked to the half-hidden hatch that led back into the Tower's superstructure. It was unfortunate that after hours of careful thought, Viers' plans amounted to exactly no plans at all. Opening the trapdoor, Viers smirked, his bass chuckle reverberating off the walls of the enclosed shaft as he swung his legs onto the ladder and began to descend. Foresight, unfortunately, had never been his strength, and in his past lives Viers had relied on his ability to react much more than his ability to plan in order to be successful. Floraelia had offered to take him to a 'friend' in O. Holdings who could help him with his 'artifact:' that would be opportunity enough for reconnaissance as to the structure and the major players within, and Viers would rely on his wits once the situation had been introduced in order to begin moving ahead with his goals. He repelled down the ladder with the ease of a much lighter man, dropping to the bottom and skillfully maneuvering himself through the steel crossbeams until he returned to the main floor hallway. Luck, he hoped, would be on his side.
Viers' predatory grin flashed through the dim illumination of the hallway, causing the door attendant to start, much in the way a zoo visitor recoils as the snap of a bear's jaws even through a pane of protective glass. The man did nothing to soften his expression as she admitted him into the suite, though he did dip his chin to her as he passed; once inside, Viers' expression was washed over with mild pleasantry, an affectation he only seemed able to conjure through its contrast to the reality he had displayed to the attendant only seconds before. Viers put on airs with the ease of a magician stepping on stage to perform, though instead of audience applause, his presence would only be announced through the sharp click! of the door lock at his back. He knew that she had returned; Viers caught her scent as he entered the suite's foyer. Encountering a vaporous convalescence of the aroma that coated that apartment told him that Floraelia had stood in the doorway only moments before: the Mithrian would realize Viers was entering the bedroom behind her almost too soon for her to remove her head from its resting place on the wall. He wasted no time, encircling her in his arms and pressing her dainty back against his chest and abdomen. He whispered softly in her ear: "I nearly believed I would be robbed of my wits if I waited for your return much longer. Did you have a productive day?"
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Post by Floraelia Devinian on Feb 28, 2014 0:24:42 GMT -5
The Mithrian very nearly jumped at the sound of the door opening behind her. In fact, her body did offer an upright jerk before she was able to regain enough composure to straighten a little more slowly. Her face had only just started to lead the rest of her form in turning toward the sound when she was suddenly engulfed by Viers' hold. There was no resisting him, and the white-haired Diplomat was given a very clear indication as to why she may have had no real option in what had happened the night before. It was true that there was something she wanted from the man and that she'd been quite accommodating and hospitable— offering the use of her guest rooms and mentioning the possibility of arranging a meeting with one of Ouroboros' top minds— but she, by no means, had any intention of granting him leave to her body as well. Buyer's remorse? Possibly. There was no doubt that Viers had a way about him that removed doubt and restriction as if they didn't exist in the first place. Truthfully her breath had caught at the sudden physical contact— a reflex from being startled— and her pulse had quickened— carrying blood that suddenly turned to ice. Was it because of the red-haired Wolf she kept in her thoughts or because Viers had caught her completely unguarded? Surely he couldn't miss the way her body stiffened against his, as minute as the recoil was.
”Oh!” The sound was of soft surprise and somehow devoid of the nervousness that threatened her hands with a tremor ”Viers! I thought you might have decided to explore the City. . .” Floraelia settled against his hold, allowing her shoulders to touch his chest as if drawing comfort before she began the delicate process of extricating herself without offering the sting of rejection. ”I'm sorry I wasn't able to let you know my scheduled was adjusted. I do hope the wait wasn't too terrible. . .” The wintry accent trailed into silence as she turned to face him, her customary warm smile barely sliding into place on time. ”My day was fairly productive, yes. Mostly paperwork.” There was an appropriately abashed smile before she continued, ”This is what happens when I am away for an extended period of time. It all just builds up and my staff can only handle so much. I had to answer for my absence.” A rueful laugh to smooth it all over. ”Have you eaten yet?” She managed to ask as she stepped back from him, smoothly creating some distance between them.
What was she doing? The Mithrian needed to pull herself together before she insulted the man— or worse, hurt him— with her sudden overflow of guilt and clarity of thought. She needed more time to think alone. . . If nothing else was certain, she would be showing him to the guest rooms tonight. Perhaps she would look into making alternate arrangements for him in the morning.
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Post by Achréiøs on Feb 28, 2014 18:54:16 GMT -5
Viers did not put up too much of a struggle as Floraelia pulled away. It had been decidedly minute, a quick tense of her muscles that she quickly subdued, but her apprehensionary reaction was obvious enough to signal the violet-eyed man to begin a rapid series of recalculations. As the woman stepped back, scrambling frantically to pull the mask of pleasantry down over top her concern, Viers slipped on a mask of his own, morphing his features to show the genuine affectation of a sad, sincere smile, the very sort of expression a sheepish boy gets when he knows he has broken a rule. Viers his hands up and palms out, a universal gesture of harmlessness, once Floraelia had settled into her distance. Yet even as Floraelia made her adjustment, Viers still took a step forward, slowly and with great care, and gently rested his palms on either side of the her face, idly stroking her cheeks with the oddly-smooth pads of his thumbs.
“Floraelia . . .” he began in a voice that was nearly a whisper, the wry expression of his face disarmingly sincere, as though he were a trained handler comforting a particularly skittish animal: “I have had some time to think, while you were gone, and I feel I should apologize. Last night was . . . an amazing experience, but one I am afraid may have been . . .” He paused, pulling in a breath to ‘work up the courage’ to speak his next part, “. . . poorly-conceived. The wine . . . your company . . . I believe it affected us both in a way neither of us planned.” Never mind that Viers was quite sure neither being was affected by alcohol; it was an easy excuse they could both use without knowing the other was aware of its untruth. The way Viers’ brow furrowed deepened his look of sad, honest contemplation and made a mask of genuine emotion so complete any play actor in city residence would surely want to take notes: his delivery was impeccable. “You make me feel . . . irrational, at times; that is not a feeling I am accustomed to. Last night, we both were carried away in the heat of the moment, to a place I believe neither of us are truly ready for.” Viers leaned in carefully to press a chaste kiss on the woman’s cheek, but then smoothly drifted his body away from the Mithrian, giving her the berth of space she originally desired.
Internally, Viers had no regrets as to his actions, which were most certainly the result of deliberate choices and not ‘being carried away in the moment.’ He knew, however, that his framing of the situation in this manner would work to put Floraelia’s mind at ease, which at the moment was a much more important endeavor than pushing her further down the road of romantic relationship; and, in that way, more sex. Viers’ first priority was his safety, and a shield of cover from the malignant forces in the city. This particular woman afforded him both: he could share significant glances and continue to show her his attractive qualities with a bit more distance, but he would be a fool if he created enough tension between them to make Floraelia reconsider her offer of aid. Or, by the same token, her offer of shelter, which was critical to his ability to stay under the radar while in the city. The man’s priority of safely achieving his goals took precedence over his want to take another roll in the proverbial hay with the Mithrian, and therefore he would have to react accordingly, however much his impulse-control problem railed against him for it. In all his years, logic and self-control had been the most important skills he had ever learned, and he refused to give up on them now.
Viers refused to break Floraelia’s eye contact, even as he gave her the security of her needed space. “I will freely admit that I care for you greatly: so much so, that if you had wanted to continue to take our relationship down the path we began last night, I would have assented. But I must admit that I am concerned; I would never wish to jeopardize our connection on account of rash actions. If you are as uncomfortable about what happened as I am, and I suspect you might be, I hope it would not be hurtful for me to insist that I take the offer of your guest room tonight. I feel as though it might be better we treat things as they were before, though I admit it may be difficult.”
The man smiled hesitantly, as if gauging Floraelia’s reaction in order to make sure he had not hurt her feelings. “I don’t regret what happened,” he said definitively, stressing the word regret. “But I also don’t want us to make a mistake that leaves one or both of us hurt. However, I defer to your judgment.” Viers sincerely hoped he had read the woman’s reaction correctly – the other possibility was that he had just rejected her when she had every intention of jumping back into bed with him, in which case he could try and make the “I was only thinking of you” argument right before they slid back between her satin sheets and rolled around for a while; but, he doubted that was the case. Floraelia seemed complex, but was still fairly easy to decipher so long as she was kept just the slightest bit off-balance, a feat Viers managed to accomplish with ease. With any luck she would note his maturity as another point of both trustworthiness and attraction, and then things could evolve “in their own time” as he sought to accomplish his other goals.
Hopefully.
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Post by Floraelia Devinian on Feb 28, 2014 23:45:12 GMT -5
Brilliant, emerald green eyes widened noticeably as his expression shifted and he showed her his palms. She glanced down at his hands for a moment, not completely understanding the intention. Of course, she understood that he was showing her he offered no harm, and it made her cheeks burn that he might have sensed how his touch made her blood ice over: it meant she'd been much too slow in regaining composure. Goddess help me. . . Was she so easily read? That verdant gaze widened exponentially when Viers moved to close the distance she'd created. Was it her imagination or was the breadth of his shoulders much wider than she recalled? Suddenly he seemed much taller than her. Floraelia froze as he reached for her, willing herself not to step out of his reach. Surely he meant no harm? Her face upturned automatically to compensate for the height difference; one of her hands reached toward one of his wrists before she caught herself and forced both hands to drop to her sides. Those jewel-toned eyes dropped to his mouth, watching his lips form her name; her lower lip fell away from the upper at his absent caress of her face. It took a moment before she could tear away from tracing where his lips met and steady herself to marry green to violet.
Suddenly it required so much effort to think coherently: Viers made the Mithrian feel like she was drowning. Her body rebelled against her mind now that the solid make of him was so close. It required every iota of poise Floraelia had to keep from wrenching herself from his grasp. . . Finally he spoke, and the more he spoke the less frantic she became. She wasn't going to have to approach how to move forward with him: he'd already considered it and came to a conclusion that certainly made things much easier for her. Truthfully, she wasn't quite sure how to feel about it. On one hand, she was terribly relieved that she was not going to be forced to relegate him— no matter how gently— to the guest rooms. On the other, a very small part of her bristled if she was being honest with herself. That he would have second thoughts on his own stung at her pride, needled her self-value. She was a Child of Mithria, physical perfection. How could he have second thoughts about someone like her?
Of course, there was the very seasoned explanation that he felt things were simply moving too fast. There was wine involved. She was unaffected, but perhaps his judgment had been severely compromised. The idea caused her no small discomfort: was it she who had taken advantage of him? She'd invited him to dinner, and the wine had flowed freely. Surely she hadn't forgotten that wine was supposed to affect the central nervous system? There was already an inherent power structure because she was the Hostess offering a safe place to stay in the City. Had she gone about it wrong? Perhaps Viers felt that he'd been taken advantage of. . . The Mithrian bit her lip as her cheeks reddened further, complementing the unmistakable glow emanating from her features. When he admitted to how she made him feel, something deep inside twisted. There was a certain cold pride that burned when he expressed it just as quickly as it was gone, replaced by fear that he was telling her all of this in an effort to reject her in the most sensitive manner he could. Certainly on some level she understood that it didn't matter if he was rejecting her or not: he was reacting in a way that was convenient to the peace of mind she needed. It didn't matter that there was part of her that wanted to make him eat every word and prove that the night before wasn't a fluke: she needed to simply leave it at that and be thankful he was expressing second thoughts and absolving her.
Every ounce of self control Floraelia had was tested when he leaned in ever-so-slowly to press a kiss to her cheek: she'd very nearly turned her face so that it was her mouth he kissed. . . As it was, her eyes were allowed to fall closed, and she sent a silent prayer of thanks to Mithria.
He was so remarkably honest that it was difficult to believe he was actually rejecting her. It seemed quite plausible even if it did sting that he wasn't willing to dive headfirst with her. What the hell was she thinking? This was a good thing: convenient, as she'd decided earlier. Her eyes opened when he retreated and continued to speak. She couldn't keep some of the relief from bleeding through on her features when he released her. Finally, she was beginning to think clearly again: cue the guilt. Such a mess she'd made in one night. . .
When he finished, she inhaled deeply, unsure of how to proceed. She couldn't hold his gaze, that was for certain. Floraelia looked away as she sorted through her thoughts as quickly as she could. ”I. . .” she began, strongly disliking the hesitation in her voice. ”I don't want you to misunderstand, Viers.” Those delicate hands flexed before the fingers laced together. ”Last night was. . .” She couldn't say that she enjoyed it. That would be a betrayal of the man she felt so strongly for. She still couldn't look at him either. ”It shouldn't have happened.” She was closing the door, ignoring the part of her that considered leaving a crack. ”It's not that I don't enjoy your company. I just. . . My actions have been misleading, and I can't be dishonest with you.” The door needed to be closed. She couldn't, in good faith, keep Viers in her bed and leave herself open for the Wolf's pursuit. ”There is someone else I'm interested in— that I've been interested in, and it would be unfair to pretend that isn't the reason last night was a mistake.” She chanced a glance at him, wincing for him— knowing how it must feel to be told there was someone more intriguing, more entrancing, and ultimately more important. ”It was my mistake, not yours, Viers. I let things go too far. Perhaps I did have too much to drink.” Her cheeks flushed scarlet at the untruth. ”If you can forgive me for treating you so terribly. . .” She braced herself for his disapproval. ”I understand that this is not a simple transgression. I can arrange for alternate living arrangements in the morning if you wish. . .” Her features threatened to crumble to the shame she felt, playing with him as she had. What was she thinking? She couldn't look at him.
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Post by Achréiøs on Mar 1, 2014 19:45:13 GMT -5
Though she likely wouldn’t see it, as unable to meet his eyes as the Mithrian was, Viers smiled in a very genuine fashion as Floraelia finished forcing out her words. She had been incredibly honest, in return for his own ‘honesty’: perhaps it was time for him to respond a bit more genuinely in kind. He began quietly: “Floraelia . . . I want to be clear, because I also don’t want you to misunderstand.” Viers knew he had to be careful: if he pushed too hard, he could get the girl but destroy a valuable connection to achieving his goals, considering that he had no trouble figuring out exactly who the other person was. Even knowing that, the impulse to be direct was getting a better hold of him than he anticipated. Since his first impulse, to grab the woman and ravage her, was not the smartest long-term tactic, Viers toned his reaction down to the next-best thing: planting his clear intentions in her mind, to see what kind of feelings and thoughts would sprout for his carefully-watered seeds. A time lapse strategy that, while uncomfortable for his impulsive nature, would bare much sweeter fruit as it matured.
There was no deep breath for stage when he spoke this time: the man dropped the timbre of his voice and just said it. “I want you.” A pause, for effect, in which Viers would watch Floraelia’s reaction extremely closely before continuing. “I want to be with you, and I must admit that is in no way diminished by what you just told me.”
The man forced a sheepish smile in an attempt to dampen the intensity of his expression to what might be considered normal in this situation. It was difficult, because the overriding pull of his internal id made it hard not to advance on her to show his feelings in actions rather than words. “The only way in which what happened is wrong is that neither of us were quite ready. I want that choice to be made by both of us, and be made when we both have our full mental faculties and are not under any duress. So while I do want to slow down, and know you more completely, at the same time letting you know me, if you tell me I am not the highest person on your romantic priority list, you still will not be able to dissuade me from caring about you. Or wanting you. I don’t think anything could. But what I won’t do is jeopardize the relationship we have, or make you uncomfortable or hurt through my actions.”
Viers smiled then a bit coyly, crossing his arms in a motion that seemed to ‘unintentionally’ bring focus to the shape of his musculature. He knew, if he played his next cards just right, things would work out for him. He just had to keep it enough together that she could only barely see how he lusted for her in his violet eyes, just a glimmer that she could latch on to without being forced to feel the full weight of his affections until she had prepared herself for them. He spoke carefully, lengthening his words to lend them finality, even as he softened his tone the tiniest bit. “I will give you space: as little or as much as you desire. But do not for a moment believe that I do not want you, or will turn away from how I feel: that’s not who I am.”
Stepping forward, but keeping just enough space between them to give the woman a sense of safety, Viers uncrossed his arms to gently rest his hands on either of Floralia’s upper arms, just below the shoulder, a friendly gesture of intimate friendship that could be taken to mean a myriad of different things within her mind, but was in no way pressuring. “You have nothing to apologize for, Floraelia, and I would greatly love to stay here, in your guest room as you wish, if you would still have me.”
Viers leaned down, one more time, to plant a soft kiss on her cheek, opposite to where he had placed the last. He would squeeze her arms in his hands gently, smiling confidently down at her, and then release her, turning away and moving toward the kitchen. “Now . . . why don’t we make something to eat, so you can tell me the frustrations of your day. Then, perhaps we can make plans for what we wish to do about my artifact tomorrow.” Once there, he would give her time to follow and sort herself out while he rummaged through her food stores, which had magically been improved while she was gone by her staff’s quiet attendance. “Do you want to cook these steaks, or should we eat something lighter, like greens?”
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Post by Floraelia Devinian on Mar 1, 2014 21:52:31 GMT -5
The Mithrian stared at the floor as if the beautifully aged hardwood could somehow lessen her discomfort. It was an entirely unfamiliar set of circumstances: the Councilwoman had existed for so much time without so much as a flirtatious glance in her direction, and now— suddenly— her feelings were entangled between not just one, but two men. Thus far, she'd managed to remain true to her virtuous Mithrian heritage: from a technical standpoint, one cannot betray a love interest without an agreed-upon exclusivity. Certainly Floraelia did not view the world by technicalities and the weight of guilt was indeed heavy on those delicately-formed shoulders, but she'd cleared the air and properly informed Viers even if her timing wasn't perfect. She wouldn't allow a misstep to color her relationship with Aeorex, especially not if the considerable intimacy saturating it became more prevalent.
The soft fullness of white fringe hid most of her face when he began speaking again though there was a noticeable pause when her name was spoken. Floraelia prepared herself for the worst kind of backlash at her confession, and was slightly more than surprised when Viers' tone dropped to offer a bold statement to his intentions. The point of her chin rose sharply as emerald locked onto amethyst, her expression openly confused. She'd just finished telling him there was another her heart belonged to after she clearly took advantage of him, and instead of the anger and hurt she expected he flatly told her it didn't change how he felt about her. Perhaps it would have been terribly amusing in a different context to watch one of the Trade City's top Diplomats be rendered absolutely speechless by an unexpected admission.
”Oh. . .” That single sound slipped from between her lips as a breath more than anything.
Her gaze fell to that sheepish smile and she wondered if there would be a point soon that she would no longer feel so overwhelmed— either by the tumult in her head or by Viers' intensity. What was he telling her exactly? That it didn't matter that she had feelings for someone else? Her mind instantly attempted to work out the mechanics and logistics of what he declared. He didn't seem to be suggesting that she forsake her other interests, only that he was interested in her regardless of her focus. That didn't seem to coincide with what she knew of human interaction or human relationships. But then, what did she understand of human romance? Only what she read, to be fair.
Floraelia bit her lip, fighting to return his stare and not let her eyes linger anywhere else. What she saw there, surfacing in violet depths, evoked a shiver she couldn't entirely suppress.
She didn't remove herself from his reach when he advanced, holding still as he grasped the cream silk covering her upper arms. He'd given her permission to distance herself, to continue their partnership as a business matter. She would have to mull it over when she was alone. It was too difficult to find objectivity now, when he was leaning in to kiss her flesh and she was stifling the desire to either direct his mouth to hers or tear herself from his grasp— she couldn't decide what was preferable. . .
The Mithrian found that she had to clear her throat and press her tongue to the roof of a mouth gone dry in order to make any reply to his question. ”I suppose I am a little hungry. . . Greens?” It was all she could get out, shell-shocked as she was.
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Post by Achréiøs on Mar 2, 2014 22:48:32 GMT -5
Viers intentionally kept his back to Floraelia for a moment as he began removing fresh foods from the cooling device at the kitchen’s center (which he still considered quite a marvel, and wondered, as he did with everything in Vascxious Sigma, whether the device was magical or mechanical). The man had a difficult time hiding his smug smile of self-satisfaction from view, and therefore he took a moment in which Floraelia would be ignorant of his expression to revel before turning back towards her, his face already repainted with the trappings of banality. Viers set a clear, crystalline bowl on the counter-top and began placing fresh ingredients near it, reaching into a nearby drawer for a knife which he could use to cut vegetables. He worked quickly, sparing a few glances towards the confused Mithrian, and began to speak even as the sounds of his work filled the space.
“You said before you had a friend who could help us with the artifact I found. Who is it? If they could help, I would very much like to pay them a visit tomorrow. The more we find out, the faster we can restore the artifact, which would be an amazing chance to study it and try to place it in history.”
Viers slid the knife smoothly across the wooden board to scrape the cut vegetables into the large bowl which had been amassing his ingredients. He moved on to the next chosen veggie without seeming to pay the slightest bit of attention to what he was doing. In truth, Viers was essentially running on autopilot in the cooking department, though his movements seemed focused and deliberate. Internally,he was too busy trying to cement his plans and cover all of his bases to be paying any real attention to what he was doing. Viers genuinely needed help restoring the blade, and though it served as a catalyst for involvement with Ouroboros, it was also critical that he not let the blade become an object of unclear possession. As soon as it was restored, Viers would immediately need to extricate it from prying hands and eyes, and he wasn’t sure if that was going to be possible once the blade had been given over to Ouroboros in any context. The man wasn’t worried that they would connect the artifact to what it signified: even if they could somehow draw a line to the ancient army that once held residence in the very city they now occupied, Ouroboros wouldn’t have any way to connect him to those instances, so his role as a bystander was assured no matter the outcome. In truth, it was Floraelia that was more likely to try and take possession of the refabricated weapon, and keeping it from her would take a bit of careful maneuvering. While Viers knew he wasn’t biting off more than he could chew with regards to Floraelia and her affections, the thought of putting a possession he prizes in the middle of what amounted to an enemy stronghold wasn’t exactly a situation he would call comfortable. Yet there would never be reward without risk, and this was a situation in which the potential for great reward certainly existed. Viers recognized the facts of the situation: he would have to man up and just do it.
Viers smiled at Foraelia affectionately, assuming she followed him into the kitchen space. “I’m excited to get started. I know if we can restore that blade, it will point us toward its origin. I’ve heard that Vascxious Sigma has an incredible library somewhere in the city: do you believe we will be able to find helpful reference there, so that we can research where the artifact came from?” The man’s enthusiasm seemed hard to hide, an easy effect to make through a tip in his vocal tone and the intensity of his gaze. The ease in which he transitioned back to business as usual was undoubtedly designed to give Floraelia a sense of comforting regularity, which in turn would give her the permission to ponder what had happened between them at a later time, when she could truly sort though her feelings on the matter. With any luck, she would sort enough that night to come get him from his guest room and invite him to bed, but Viers wasn’t holding his breath. As it was, the man didn’t have much concern as to how the woman sorted out her feelings, though he would lament sleeping alone, as he always did.
“All right, greens it is.” Viers pushed the rather impressive finished product of his salad-making endeavor to the center of the counter and grabbed some oil and spices from above him to finish it off. “What do you want to go with it, or should we eat light?” Normally, that would be the moment that Viers would make a ‘saving room for dessert’ joke, but he bit his tongue. It was too soon to poke the bear of Floraelia’s emotional state: he might just end up less a hand for his trouble.
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Post by Floraelia Devinian on Mar 3, 2014 16:10:48 GMT -5
The Mithrian absently followed Viers into the open area that contained the kitchen and the largest common area, softly closing the bedroom door behind her before rounding the corner to be confronted by the spectacular view that took up most of the penthouse. The Central Skyline of Vascxious Sigma was difficult to ignore and Floraelia was content to let her verdant gaze be drawn by the sharp spires and twinkling ocean of lights. The overall tone between them had changed and, for that, the Mithrian was entirely grateful.
Floraelia moved past the tasteful furnishings of creams and whites, broken up only with accents of silver and the occasional drop of blood red to create contrast, to stand next to the miracle of Trade City technology: it was only a very long pane of glass that wrapped 'round over half of the well-kept suite and protected them both from the elements— the very same kind of glass that protected the Tower. That her eyes fell on the Tower before drifting to rest on the sister towers of O. Holdings was probably not a conscious decision. . . Floraelia hadn't realized she'd allowed her arms to cross until Viers started speaking from the kitchen. A smooth exhalation that left no condensation on the glass was forced from her body: the Mithrian used the opportunity to center herself before refocusing those bright green eyes, catching the faint mirror image of herself in the glass before uncrossing her arms and turning to face her guest— one whose status and boundaries had been settled to her satisfaction.
”I did, yes. Aidan Dirieté. She is the Chief Operating Officer for Ouroboros, the CEO of which you've already met.” There was no missed beat and the Diplomat's voice was unshakeable with its distinctive, rolling accent. ”I believe hers is the mind best suited in terms of restoring the artifact, but there are complications.” Floraelia listened to the soothing rhythm of knife against cutting board, weighing her words carefully before she spoke again. ”Though the history of such a relic is quite important to you and I, its historic value may mean nothing to Aidan. There is the danger that the ownership of an ancient weapon of unknown origin and unknown properties,” she paused to consider how the weapon fragment made her feel when she touched it— a consideration that elicited a shiver— before she continued, ”would be thrown into contention. We must approach asking for help from her very carefully if we are to retain our possession of the relic.” The Mithrian seemed to speak from personal experience, and indeed she did: Euthyphyro became just such an item in contention when she approached the CEO and COO of Ouroboros for help with containing her. The pact she made with them to get what she wanted still caused her to bristle when she had to think about it. Of course, it was then that Viers continued optimistically, coaxing the Mithrian to join him in the kitchen where she gathered the necessary glasses and pitcher to satisfy their drinking needs: perhaps it would be dryly noted that she did not touch the wine stores and opted for supplying them with water instead.
A warm smile was offered in response to his enthusiasm. Indeed, she was rather excited as well, but also extremely wary. Despite her very strong feelings for Aeorex on a personal level, the Diplomat was professionally cautious when it came to dealings with him or his representatives: her goal was always to remain free of the trappings of Ouroboros' extensive reach. She took a sip of water but only after setting a tumbler down for Viers first. ”Vascxious Sigma does indeed have one of the world's largest collection of books, yes. It's actually located here, in the Second District.” There was no masking the burn of Mithrian pride that lit her features at the admission. ”I would actually prefer to start there— if there is a possibility we can have some sense of where the artifact comes from, we will not be blindsided by that specific 'discovery' and we will be in a better position to know what we're asking for, and a better position to settle any questions that may arise.” Floraelia wasn't going to understate the importance of establishing ownership, but she was certainly going to great lengths to sugar what it could potentially cost her— not Viers— to call in a favor from Aidan, and thereby calling in a favor from Aeorex.
”I think this will do. I'm not terribly hungry,” she offered an endearing shrug and a genuine smile as she retrieved wide, shallow bowls for them both and handed them to Viers to dole out the servings. . .
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Post by Rosencrance Viers on Mar 3, 2014 17:46:14 GMT -5
Viers listened closely as Floraelia spoke, assimilating the information as it was given. He couldn’t say he was particularly surprised by the complexity of the situation: anyone with a stake in an organization as large as Ouroboros did not get where they were by being straightforward and simple. Floraelia’s worries echoed his own, and the fact that they were aligned in that regard was heartening to his chances of success. Yet, as the plot of the situation became more elaborate, Viers found his enjoyment of the situation rising, to the point where he absently found himself wondering just how long a stay he might be convinced to have in Vascxious Sigma. There was so much to do, even once his immediate goals had been accomplished, and Viers could not help but e intrigued by the possibility of setting up a slightly more permanent residence situation within the city: that is, as long as he could escape the ever-watchful eye of its Magistrate.
Viers smiled as he doled the salad out into the elaborately-decorated bowls, making sure to coat each serving in spice and oil before handing one to Floraelia and replacing his grip with the water container she had put out for him. The man leaned his body backwards against the countertop and took a sip, seemingly deep in thought. He knew he would have to tread carefully when it came to her friend Aidan, and more importantly Aeorex, but with Floraelia and her superior knowledge of the situation doing likewise, he felt much more at ease. He was somewhat surprised to notice how the Mithrian seemed to separate her apparent emotional attachment to the CEO from her logistical consideration, a fact that made him more impressed with her as time went on.
“I somehow imagined it would not be as simple a matter as you made it sound. In that case, let us put our heads together and come up with a plan of action, so that we clearly cover our bases.” Viers set down his water to pick up an eating utensil, which he used to stab at the greens in his dish in order to raise some to his mouth. He crunched on the fresh vegetables for a moment before continuing: “The library is a good first step, but it will be difficult to identify an origin for the artifact while it is still in pieces. A lot of ancient weapons are written about by what they do rather than what they look like, and in its broken state, we have no idea if it has any ability beyond that of a normal sword, let alone that ability might be.”
The man continued to pick at his salad thoughtfully, though Viers stopped himself mid-chew on his next bite, an idea clearly occurring to him that took precedence over the mechanical action of eating. “The location I found it in might be the key, since it was buried deep enough I could potentially narrow the time period to a certain era in the city’s past. Do you think we will find much on Vascxious Sigma’s ancient history in the library, enough that we might discover which direction to look for where the sword might have come from?”
Viers continued to eat for a moment in silence, finishing his salad as he allowed Floraelia to do the same. When he set his bowl down on the counter, the man smiled caringly in the Mithrian’s direction, his violet gaze making sure to meet hers.
“I’ll admit I was concerned about turning over the artifact to someone I do not know, but I trust your judgment. It makes me trust it all the more that you shared with me your own concerns. You are a singularly remarkable woman, and I count my blessings each moment I am allowed to spend with you.” The expression was, interestingly, more genuine than the majority of his words, and that level of honesty would be very obvious to Floraelia, were she to pay attention to the man’s eyes. The co-conspirators clearly had their work cut out for them, and the prospect of working side-by-side clearly gave Viers a sense of untapped excitement. After all, how often did one get to play political games with a head of state?
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Post by Floraelia Devinian on Mar 3, 2014 18:39:43 GMT -5
”Therein lies our first obstacle,” the Diplomat responded casually, as she continued to turn the set of circumstances over in her head. This was likely the coldest Viers would see Floraelia: there was political maneuvering afoot and she couldn't afford a misstep, not with Aeorex or Aidan and certainly not with Viers in tow. To say that Floraelia completely trusted Viers was inaccurate. She did not mistrust him, but she was handling him like a civilian she intended to keep as informed as necessary to keep him from unwittingly offering an unforeseeable edge to the Councilman of the Third District. Of course she preferred to work with Aeorex and wouldn't ever truly work against him: she considered them to be allies, politically— though it was the politics that did complicate things. It was undeniable that there were things both Aeorex and Aidan wanted from her that she would not offer freely. Aeorex had already pressed her into offering herself up for Aidan's research: an agreement that ultimately was not seen through to the end and only because the terms could not be met by either party. . . Floraelia did not dwell on the circumstances of Euthyphyro's flight— it was a marked failure that was still a source of frustration. Still, she had to tread carefully. Euthyphyro was no longer part of the equation, but it was almost guaranteed that this new favor might prompt either Aeorex or Aidan to use her need as a way to negotiate new terms that involved her resigning to place herself on Aidan's table once more. Her blood turned to fire at the thought, and not because of any advance made by Ms Dirieté.
”Having the fragment restored is the quickest way to figure out its place in history, but the risk is that something is learned during reconstruction— while it is no longer in our hands— that requires a shift in negotiation. There are two options, as I see it, and perhaps variations of both. We could devote as much time as is necessary to digging up every possible reference, but that means we have no working timeline. It means we would be especially prepared and could, perhaps, know precisely what we are asking for, however. . .” Her salad received a few noncommittal pokes from her fork.
”The other option is that we construct our own reference for the relic and work off a loose set of possibilities and simply deal with a re-negotiation if we have to. There is inherent danger in that option, and I don't know if I can accept the risks.” The Diplomat sighed and perhaps it would be then that Viers would realize that she was allowing him to listen to her thought process. He probably wouldn't realize the rarity of such an interaction, but it didn't matter. He'd learn soon enough. ”The difference between the two strategies is that in scenario one, we are assuming the fragment has value outside of its historical one. In scenario two, we are operating under the assumption that it has only historical value. How we approach them is significant as well. I can simply approach Aidan as a hobbyist historian, excited about a new discovery, and request her eyes and mind to help me bring a piece of Vascxious Sigma's history to life. The alternative is that we approach Aeorex for a business arrangement, which leaves us open to a negotiation we are not ready for. . .”
The beautiful arrangement of salad greens was encouraged to slide around the shallow bowl before Floraelia set down her fork in favor of raising her glass.
”I do not believe it pure conjecture to offer my belief that the sword is not ordinary, and that there is something it can do that we need to know about before proceeding.” Floraelia leaned back in her chair, forgetting how she'd come to sit down in the first place. It was happenstance that her eyes met his, lost as she was in examining the angles of their dilemma, but once they did she found that she couldn't look away easily. Her mouth spread into a smile attractively over radiant features, the color filling her cheeks before she could properly look away. ”We share a love of things archaic, I think. I wouldn't count any blessings until we can reclaim a full restored crystal sword that may or may not be a centerpiece in Sigma City history.” Her expression turned playful and she finally took a bite of the meal Viers had prepared for them.
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Post by Rosencrance Viers on Mar 3, 2014 19:22:13 GMT -5
Viers listened quite intently as Floraelia lead him through the process of her thoughts, laying down the multiple ways in which they could potentially proceed, seemingly without picking one over any other. The journey was an interesting one, and the violet-eyed man made no attempt to interrupt the woman’s stream of consciousness as she laid it bare. She was right: there was inherent danger in any choice, either from the potential of a never-ending timeline or from an unseen variable within a deal with Ouroboros. Viers was not particularly risk-adverse so long as they were smart about just what risks were made, and therefore he was not heavily inclined to spend the next six months in a library, looking for clues to an origin he already knew. Instead, he had another plan.
“Perhaps we could approach Ouroboros with the artifact as an official historical restoration: one of many.” Viers took another sip from his glass of water as he contemplated the logistics of his idea. His proposition was bold, so he slowed his words to make it appear as though he were working through the idea as he spoke it, rather than pulling from an already-formed design. “We take several other similar artifacts and put them with the sword as a group. Then, you approach Ouroboros not as a private historian, but as a diplomat who is trying to start a historical project in your district. You set the stage for the artifacts as being new finds for a title exhibit on Vascxious Sigma history you wish to use to kick-start a new museum. That way you can deal purely on a financial basis, giving Ouroboros sponsor rights for the project. It gives them the publicity, and you can make it an actual project for your district, which might help your standing in the upcoming elections, simultaneously disguising the real reason for the restoration. When all the similar artifacts are restored and returned pending the construction of the exhibit, we use the time to study the complete sword, replacing it in the exhibit with a replica.”
Viers set down his glass with a clink! And grinned, an expression that displayed his feral eyeteeth in a way Floraelia would not have often witnessed. “Convoluted, and potentially expensive as it may be, it could lead to a great deal of other advantages besides just making the artifact whole again: and it creates viable pretense for negotiation, because it would be a take-it-or-leave-it offer for Ouroboros, and they would more than likely take it. The only danger comes if they discover something about the artifact during restoration.”
The thing that might surprise Floraelia most is Viers’ awareness of the landscape of Vascxious Sigma: up until this point, he had seemed fairly ignorant as to the city’s workings, but clearly the man had a better idea than he had originally let on. His choice was deliberate: Floraelia had shared her thoughts, but had also taken the superior position in the planning of their next move, considering that she knew more of the fine details. Viers had no issue with the woman taking the lead in the negotiations: that had been the plan all along. However, the man meant to demonstrate that he, while content to play sidekick to the Mithrian, was able to contribute just as much to their endeavor: a fact that made the endeavor of restoring the artifact all the more theirs rather than just his, which would foster a sense of shared investment meant to disguise his real purpose.
Viers watched the woman carefully, judging her reaction. “What do you think?”
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Post by Floraelia Devinian on Mar 3, 2014 20:02:05 GMT -5
The Mithrian absentmindedly set her fork down again when Viers responded to the layout of their options. She watched him closely as he spoke, and was quite surprised by what he had to say. ”Viers,” his name was little more than a breath, ”That's actually. . . That's rather brilliant.” She had no compunction about giving credit where it was due. The logistics were examined very carefully before she continued. ”It could indeed be an all-or-nothing-at-all arrangement. We could set up a clause so that if something extraordinary is discovered about any of the relics we supply for restoration, it is only with our direct oversight and approval that action outside of restoration and return is taken. After all, we could cite it as a matter of National Security were it discovered that the sword does indeed have secondary features, and because we are, in a sense, offering a government contract to a private firm for a public cause, my political ties would win out over Aeorex's. If he wanted to dispute the terms of the contractual parameters he would be forced to bring it before the Council— the risk for him being the very likely outcome that the Council would rule in my favor and I would be under no obligation to negotiate with him over who retains ownership: it would be clear as crystal in the contract we draw up and make sure is signed before we proceed.”
The Mithrian was almost giddy as she excitedly articulated her thoughts. ”What we need to do to prepare, instead of locking ourselves away in a library, is to catalog the first shipment of such 'historical artifacts,' the question being— do we include the sword fragment in the first shipment, or do we save it for the second or third to further disguise our intentions with such an arrangement?
There was a weighted paused before she went on. ”We must also consider that Aeorex, and Aidan for that matter, are those not misdirected easily, though the arrangement is more than plausible and entirely within the realm of my usual activities. I will use the newness of your presence in conjunction with this plan, perhaps even shaping this new historical-artifact-centric organization around you specifically. That should grant you the access you'll need when my attention is forced elsewhere. Your investment is as strong as mine, and it will help alleviate even more suspicion if my part is touch and go— that of a mildly interested, but terribly busy, politician— as I would doubt Aeorex would accept that I was suddenly interested in relic restoration to the exclusion of all else. . .” She trailed off then, wondering what, if anything, she could do on the non-political side of things to help ensure Aeorex's cooperation. Those even, structurally perfect teeth bit into the fullness of her lower lip as her mind raced. It was unfair. She needed to keep those boundaries intact: the second she started using her personal connection to him to facilitate political wants and needs was the second she entangled herself with him in a way that would not easily be undone. It was better to keep this strictly business.
The Mithrian made eye contact with Viers, her expression definitively pleased with their conclusion. ”Do you think we could create an outline solid enough by the end of the week? We wouldn't have to have everything, including the contract, in place in order to meet with Aeorex, but we should be prepared to answer any questions he might have. Perhaps the first 'meeting' should have an informal setting, as if we were still considering the plans and happened to reach out to him for counsel?” Considering the very public issues Ouroboros was facing currently— nothing Floraelia didn't think they couldn't handle— Aeorex might be more open to what would seem like a publicly favored PR move in sponsoring a historical exhibit than he would have otherwise. . .
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Post by Rosencrance Viers on Mar 14, 2014 18:11:06 GMT -5
Rosencrance Viers grinned. He honestly hadn’t expected the Mithrian to jump at his idea so readily, but he should not have been surprised: the woman had demonstrated herself to be nothing if not pragmatic, and his solution did offer an easy way to cover all of their respective bases. Floraelia was able to fill in the details he could not hope to conceive of, using her knowledge to connect the fibers of his idea into something more closely resembling a formal structure, her thoughts dipping to and fro like a pair of knitting needles, skillfully weaving the unformed yarn of his thoughts into a carefully constructed tapestry. Viers leaned back and sipped his water slowly, his teeth clicking on the edge of his glass as he listened: she certainly made it sound easy.
The man set his glass down as Floraelia addressed him, and furrowed his brow in thought as he sought to respond. Planning was still not his strong suite, but he as getting better at it as time went on. “If we slip the sword in on the second or third shipment, there will be more chance they will be acting procedurally, or have handed it off to lower employees, and therefore would have a lower possibility of them finding anything amiss. If we establish that the first group of items is more-or-less ordinary, they wouldn’t have a reason to look for one extraordinary piece among the many.”
The logic bore out: they wouldn’t be looking at the sword if they had already restored several similar items, and therefore would be a lot less likely to get suspicious over that one piece. However, it was in no way a sure bet, which meant one of the two of them had to be involved every step on the way. And since Floraeia already noted that she couldn’t be too hands-on with the project in order to keep suspicions low, that left him in the thick of the day to day, which is exactly what he had been hoping for. Viers looked contemplative, but inwardly he felt triumphant.
“I agree that you shouldn’t look too involved. I would be cautious about approaching Ouroboros informally, however: men like Aeorex are much more likely to expect some sort of quid pro quo if it is in any way seen as a favor rather than a straight-edge business deal.” The sentence contained something of a double entendre, which Viers had placed by design only for the purpose of gauging Floraelia’s reaction. Viers wasn’t overly concerned about the method of presentation, insofar as whatever method chosen would let him get his foot in the door.
“We should definitely be able to have a presentation ready by the end of the week. I have more artifacts stashed in a safe place near the city: I can retrieve them and bring them here so I can begin cataloguing them tomorrow. I can have representations and lists of items and services needed ready by then, which should be enough to look legitimate. I can answer any questions.” Viers quickly thought back to exactly where he had stashed the items he had taken from the cache: it wasn’t the safest place in the world, but he wouldn’t have too much trouble bringing them to the surface again.
The man smiled warmly at Floraelia, clearly appreciative of her investment. “I suppose this means the start of a long partnership; if I had been told I would be working with the loveliest Counselor in the city on such a project, I would have thought the idea impossible. You continue to prove yourself to be singularly remarkable, Floralia, and I appreciate the chance to be with you in this regard.” Viers raised his water glass in a mock toast, his smile bright enough to light up the room. “Perhaps we should have a drink to celebrate!”
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