It's All Just A Game ... Promise

[Kitty Love]

Loki remained in his own little world, the presence of others currently unknown. He enjoyed the company of others, yes, but it wasn't something that was absolutely necessary. He was perfectly capable of amusing himself and, at times, lapsed into this little frame of mind, like now, where nothing mattered except the moment. and at this moment all that mattered was fun, his previous aggression melting away and leaving a somewhat euphoric ignorance, and deceptive innocence behind.

Njambi's presence wasn't at all acknowledged until he was speaking, whether Loki didn't know he was there, or chose to ignore the light sounds of movements, was presently unknown. however, his attention was pulled away from his games and to his half brother. However, he still had one of his hind paws in his mouth and thus made a response mumbled and difficult to understand, until of course the paw was released. "It did indeed, but it won't ever again .... the patch that did anyhow."

He rolled over lazily, now facing his winged sibling, his spine ridge leaving little grooves in the ground. his tail came back to life and he idly pawed at the air near Njambi, trying to coax him into a game, although knowing it might be a bit difficult. "Care for a game, or will it dirty your feathers?" his characteristic smirk reappeared upon his muzzle, if he couldn't get him to play he'd settle for merely teasing him, it was -almost- as fun.

[silverdust]

Sethe might've felt relief at the comment, had he not severed ties with his emotions at a young age. He really did not understand any feeling he had, other than hate, rage, sorrow, anything on the negative spectrum. It was all part of his wall, and his stubborn refusal to let it crumble. More than anything, he did not want to relive his family betrayal again, so he couldn't allow himself to trust, to care. Or at least not conciously.

Seibhizion finished tidying up and placed the instruments in the maw of a nearby goblin figurehead. Ena's doll, wherever she may be, would put it in place later. She tilted her head in the direction of their conversation, picking out the meaning behind Kaejalin's words. "There are extra rooms in Ena's theatre, if you so desire. He will not mind as we are not affliated with casts."

Sethekaju gave her another glance. "What brought you here, Seibhizion? I thought he had that doll of his to help him."

The Marionette shrugged, taking a one of the candlelabras from its niche in the wall. "He needed me, the sigil ritual was delicate this time. It did not work, as usual."

She started toward one of the darkened halls, motioning the boys with her head. "I can guide you if you'd like. The theatre's is open for anything, now that Enakaejir is caught up in his research again."

[Vyn]

Njambi watched Loki's self absorbed preening with a sort of detached interest, but didn't dwell on it long. There really wasn't any reason to, Loki was always like that. Nevertheless, he flashed a charmingly condescending smile upon the other as he announced his domination of the grass. It wasn't that he was actually trying to be aloof or condescending as he was currently acting, it was just the side-effect of reigning in his malice. "Well, that's good to hear. No need to have the grass starting trouble."

Njambi gazed down at his brother for a moment and then stretched languorously, flaring his blue-tipped wings and flicking his light blue feather-tufted tail. He was running Loki's words over in his mind, debating whether or not dirtying up his feathers was something to risk. After a moment he grinned maliciously and nodded, swiping a clawed talon toward Loki.

"A game may actually be worthwhile." The Director lifted his head regally, gazing down at his brother. "But only under the condition that you control your impulses enough to not leave any permanent damage on my wings or tail." Njambi would not settle well with bald patches in his feathers, that would warrant the painful removal of Loki's horns one day, and that wouldn't be very Director-like at all, now would it?

_{Njambi: 2}

---

Kaejalin smiled warmly at Sethe and Seibhi. It was nice to be welcomed so freely. It seemed like everywhere else he stood as nothing more than a disgrace to the Jiaro bloodlines, and an outcast in just about every other situation. It was nice to be wanted once in a while, and even better to have a bit of family that wanted something to do with you.

Thoughts of family drove his mind back to Zoku, of the Patchwork's sadistic words, and yet...there was always something more. Even in the heat of their fights, Zoku had never fatally wounded him...something he was well aware Zokumenoji was capable of. So why did he always watch himself around him? Why had he assisted in ripping Sethe to ribbons...and yet stand before Jalin and offer him advice on becoming stronger?

Jalin closed his eyes, reopening them as he heard Sethe speaking to Seibhi. Ena' s doll? Sigil rituals? It was all rather odd to the young Puppeteer, who had never spent time in the company of this strange Marionette child before. Slowly he stepped up to stand at his brother's side, tilting his head slowly in curiosity. "Pardon my asking, but... Who is Enkaejir? and what are the Signil Rituals?" In the world of fairy tale stories and myths, Jalin played the role of Paladin. Alchemy had yet to strike his fancy.

However, it was a reason to get his mind off of Zoku's duality and to focus more on getting to know his current company.

[Kitty Love]

"No vegetation will ever overstep it's boundaries as long as I'm around."

At that he chuckled, finding this to be rather amusing and a bit sad at the same time. He really would like to be remembered as something more then a mere gardener with horns. unless, of course, plants suddenly began to walk about and go on a mass killing spree and being a horned gardener would actually come in handy, but this wasn't a realistic thought and even the insanity in him found it funny.

"Can't harm your feathers? but you'd make such a nice hat!"

He rolled over onto his belly so he could get up onto all four paws, his tail flickering as it usually did. "and your leaving the rest of you up for... stabs aye?" He grinned wickedly, even though his tone was that of humor and not seriousness.

[silverdust]

Sethe started slightly as his sibling came to his side. None of his direct blood would taint themselves coming in spitting distance of his torn form, not unless they wanted to torture him further. The companionable closeness was foreign to him. Before he had supported Kaejalin out of necessity, and he had figured to an extent the Puppeteer had accepted it as such. This…this was strange to say the least, but he didn’t let his composure shatter. After all, why should he be touched by something as trivial as that? It wasn’t as if he desired contact at all.

“Enakaejir is the Cremation that runs this place,” he answered, making sure his tone remained that same nonchalant dryness. “He’s an ‘alchemist’.”

It wasn’t as if he completely scorned the Puppeteer’s work, but he wouldn’t allow himself to trust to fully in it. The mustildae had vaguely promised to return him to his true form, one unmarred as it had meant to be. But nothing had worked so far and he was not going to allow himself to cling stupidly to a fragile thread. Seibhizion caught the bitterness in his voice, as always. “Come, I will show you.”

She led the way deftly through a long hallway, her hollow voice ringing eerily as they went. “Sigil Rituals are what I call them. It is basically painting pentagrams, inscriptions, special signs, sigils and such upon the ground. Ena uses them for some of his larger experiments. His doll, Helle, cannot participate in the actual rituals for most of the time, the orders are too complex.”

She pushed open a small side door, turning fluidly into a gigantic room. On the floor was an elaborate inscription consisting of a mess of intricate symbols and scripts of dead languages. The deep red and black of the ink had a faint, bitter tinge of blood. Strange papers, ingredients, metal and powders littered the floor. Torches burned in elaborate stands, set up on strategic points of the diagram. In the center of the floor was a shimmering mass of…something, glowing iridescent white in the torchlight.

Seibhizion motioned with her hand, like some strange tour guide. “It was an elaborate one, this. Do not touch the thing in the middle. Ena does not know what it is yet, but it was not supposed to happen.”

Sethe cocked an eyebrow at the display. He was not truly familiar with Ena’s work, but this seemed a bit much. The alchemist might be getting a bit frustrated now, not that one could ever tell. Still, he moved into the room to explore it a bit further. He was aware that Kaejalin might need a distraction, after all, he readily sought them himself. What better than a madman’s theatre?

[Vyn]

Njambi could not help but to chuckle aloud at his brother's commentary. Loki the Horned Gardener, who would've thought?! His condescending smile altered to one of true charm, without malice hidden in the background.

"Perfect. One less trouble maker for me to keep in line."

As amusing as Njambi found the thought, he knew it would not be so. Loki would never rest at ease being nothing more than a simple tamer of vegetation. As time passed, he would need more and more blood to satisfy his destructive personality. Njambi knew how insatiable some aspects of one's self could be.

"One lost plume isn't the end of the world." He commented without much interest, flicking his long feathered tail. "Anything else and I might have to actually dislike you." He was humoring Loki in his own way. Playing the brotherly role though he felt very little in the way of brotherly love. "Only if you're willing to part with your horns once you are done with them, dear brother."

His words retained their regal aura, but they also possessed something new: humor. However, the smile upon his maw was malicious in all definitions of the word and easily contradicted the humor in his tone. It drew a fine line between what he was honestly contemplating and the fact that he had no true desire to physically harm his brother. After all, Njambi found it was so much easier to smash hearts than bones...much less of a chance that his wings would be sullied as well.

_{Njambi: 6}

---

[Kitty Love]

"You haven't kept me in line yet... little one."

He smirked, raising his bum up into the air and pouncing foreward, staying on his two hind legs and giving a little hop foreward and batted at Njambi's nose being careful of his claws. His velvet lined ears flickered back as a playful growl rose up from his throat.

"Your feathers will grow back, my horns won't, not a fair trade dear brother."

He then collapsed onto his side, nipping at his brother's paws and acting as if he were going to whip him with his tail. He then began to chuckle, thinking about what Njambi would look like featherless.

"You'd look awful funny without those silly blue feathers."

To Loki those feathers just didn't fit in with the rest of his siblings coat, they seemed like they'd need to be on someone else's body to actually fit.

(( Sorry for the craptacularness.. .but I've got people over and it's all distractyness and you know how that goes. =) ))