Here is the response to the above Rp by Smiddich. Wonder if I did the emotions well enough. Hope you enjoy it!A Forced Drink "Allow me to welcome you to Perdan City", said the Duke finally, once his drink was refreshed, and one forced into the hand of his guest, "I hope you have found everything to your liking, accommodation and such. It is no so often we receive a guest from the North, even less, one who renounces them completely! I must admit, I am surprised but not disappointed."
And after some more words:
"So, Sir Nemean... mind telling me why you're here?" ~Smiddich Fontaine
The quiet disregard of the pirate Duke and the apparent ease with which the man turned his broad physique away from Nemean unsettled him. Wasn't this supposed to be a confrontation? The marble-esque visage of the younger man crumbled in the interim that eyes weren't locked. The thrust glass filled with amber liquid found perch in his hands. Intrusion. The shifting frame of the older man. The predatory confidence. The quiet simplicity with which the Duke moved in his own home. The larger muscles that overshadowed the younger Noble's, while arms didn't lock they were close enough to be compared.
Nemean felt more than willed his gaze drop to the ground as the Duke offered his first words. ''I hope you have found everything to your liking..'' The wood paneling of the floor stared back up at him. Fingers gripped the expensive glass tightly. ''It is no so often we receive a guest from the North..'' Warmth of an unkind spring welled, deep in his chest. ''Even less, one who renounces them completely!..'' Slow breaths brought some measure of control to Nemean as he forced his eyes to meet those of the Duke. The man continued his brief story and all Nemean could do to attempt and remember his teachings in custom, was to sip the Brandy. The burning liquid running down his throat.
As the Duke asked his final question, the room fell silent. Slowly taking a sip Nemean put the glass down on the Duke's desk. A flash in his mind, he saw himself launch over the desk. The whipping sound of sails in the imagined background. His hands around the master swordman's neck. The voice of anger nudging him: Do it.
''Don't speak of my mother in that way.'' Eyes full of promise, Nemean approached the desk. A slither of a thought formed in the recesses of his mind. Near silent but powerful still. -Remember your training-. Marble slowly crept back as his face set into a mask. ''I am here to find out about my family. My father, who you served. Were sworn to.'' Nemean stopped himself. Visibly struggling despite his efforts to appear neutral. Eyes closed.
''There never was word from him.'' Eyes opened again. ''Not a letter, not a story, nothing. My mother..'' A fierce glance lashed out at the Pirate. ''..never spoke of him. She only fought and had little time. All of the Golden Wings were forbidden to speak about. I know nothing about him. Who he was.'' Whatever anger had risen in the young man, it now all but suddenly left him as a great tree giving in to the logger's axe. He even marked the desk with the tip of his boot and shrugged.
''There was nothing left in the North.'' He tried to look at Smiddich. ''The family I was raised in is gone. There is no will where I came from. I could not stay there. I was rich there.'' Nemean raised his chin as if wealth mattered and was an achievement, but he knew otherwise already. ''My name, I couldn't use it. One I could but not all of my name. It was wrong. They didn't say why it was wrong. Only to destroy Perdan.'' A hand reached up and rubbed his chin. ''To destroy the Realm and Home of my father. My family's land. That isn't right but they wouldn't hear it.''
Unknowingly Nemean had begun to pace. ''I am looking for Family Smiddich.'' A statement, a challenge, a quest. A desire and a problem. Caught between worlds and far from illustrious heritage on either side. A young man without that, which everyone seems to simply have. Looked at the older and wiser man in front of him.
