Leucistic [For Armande]

[silverdust]

Armands wondered if the boy knew just how...charming he could be. From the gentle, painfully demure motions to the slight naivete that came with his strangeness to this land and language, everything was enrapturing in its own quiet way. And it wasn't that he had become enamored with Kaemonji in such a short time, no, he had far too much control for that. But it was a fascination certainly, but only on a distant level.

Truth be told, he didn't mind to wander all night. Yet it was not for him to decide, no matter how his young companion framed it. Kaemonji was certainly the lead actor in this play, and Armandejah, just part of the choir, drawn in by chance. His wanderings had an end, after all, a point, a promise.

"You may take as much time as you need," Armannde bowed slightly, his eyes slightly teasing but sincere nonetheless. "I am at your pleasure tonight; nothing waits for me."

[iprince]

The eloquence of Armande’s words were lost on Kaemonji’s foreign ears, but the bow provided all the emphasis he needed. Kaemonji nodded once, resisting a coy chortle as he turned his gaze to the branching path. He chose the one that smelled most sweetly of free air.

As much as he enjoyed his gentleman’s company, the prospect of seeing Jiaro again greatly outweighed his desire to acquire new friends. Nevertheless, his pace was slow and languid…he was more than willing to take his time now, but he certainly would not purposefully cause himself to lose his way.

“Do you know how long Jiarokumo has been here?” Probably not, but there was no harm in asking. He paused, lifting his chin to the heavens, brow furrowed in consternation,” He has not caused…much trouble, no?”

Not as much as Jiaro was prone to, if the lack of…negative emotions at the sound of his name were any hint. Perhaps his cousin was learning to behave himself. Kaemonji’s lips curled in amusement at the thought.

[silverdust]

"I suppose...Jiaro came before I did, so a few months, years maybe."

He shrugged, biting back an urge to ask exactly what the nature of Kaemonji's relation was. They were probably family of a sort; they were both leonine, though Kaemonji certainly of a lighter coloration, and disposition as well. But how could such a well-mannered...well...almost sweet individual in any way be related to the Jiarokumo who was the root of many a dark rumor, and darker demise?

"There is no personal strife between Jiarokumo and I," he shrugged his shoulders; honestly he wasn't exactly the best to ask, but he would do his best to sate Kaemonji's curiosity. "But I can tell you from his offspring, he seems much more concerned with making love rather than war."

Indeed, the progeny of the Cast of Original Sin was a veritable generation in itself. And now there was word of the dark god actually ascending to the rank of grandfather. He would probably mention that later, but he hadn't seen evidence of it yet and he did not wish to mislead his companion. After all, he only had brief acquaintance with two of the children, ones whose ties were not exactly the closest.

[iprince]

Make love, not war? Weren’t peacekeepers the one’s who commonly stated such a thing? Jiarokumo had never been one to keep the peace. The saying would never feel quite the same in Kaemonji’s head ever again. He should not have been quite so surprised over it, though. This was Jiaro they were speaking of.

“He was a marionette,” Kaemonji supplied quietly, almost…hesitantly. He wouldn’t want to anger his cousin by giving away his secrets, after all. If, indeed, Jiaro had chosen to keep that fact hidden from these English Euclide.

“He has many children then?” Many english children, he should have said. Kaemonji had no doubt in his mind that Jiaro had spread his bloodlines from here to Egypt and back. In fact…many of their cast had been adamant about bloodlines.

Kaemonji was perhaps one of the very few who hadn’t produced offspring before Jiaro had…taken over, the cast. Still hadn’t produced children, even. Being a puppeteer, and a mix bred, he hadn’t the title or attractiveness of others. And since his ‘liberation’ he’d not had time for such a thing. His only attempt at copulation had been…had been with his naga. Many moons ago, now. No, Kaemonji would never have such an expansive list of offspring. His bloodline would die with him.

[silverdust]

"Many indeed, and maybe a few grandchildren as well," Armandejah smiled faintly. "There has not been a night where I have not seen at least one of his brood. They are not very hard to recognize."

And what of his little princes and sultanas? Bone dust, lost in the sands of time. He had spent a very long time becoming accustomed to the loss, gouging a wound so deep it failed to hurt any longer. He had no news of any of the recent marionettes he had taken up with, no mention of any other offspring. At this point, he was not certain of how it might affect him. Perhaps he had become barren in the long stretch of wandering? How unfitting.

He shook his head, distracting himself from the pointless ponderings. "A marionette? No wonder our females are so drawn to him. But it is much more of a task to ascend into a rank you are not born to..."

He noticed that there was a hesitation about the leonine, something almost like regret. He would've liked to unravel the secrets that hung about the youth like a shroud, but either a distant pride or fear kept him from asking those unsuitable questions. Instead they faltered into something inane. "Are you...feeling well, Kaemonji?"

[iprince]

“Jiarokumo worked for his rank.” Worked skulls beneath paws and throats between jaws...but such was the way of the Euclides.

Grandchildren? By Ra, Jiaro had certainly kept himself busy, hadn’t he. Grandchildren… What did that make Kaemonji? A second cousin? A third? A forth as well, soon enough, if his gentleman spoke the truth. But being a cousin, an uncle, a nephew, and a son was never quite the same thing as parenthood. Kaemonji scowled at himself, visage jerked away from Armande, unwilling to allow him to see such a disdainful expression.

Kaemonji was too…kind for his own good. Too…morale for a proper Euclides. And he, part sin…so very lacking in sin, lest it be envy. But that was a prayer in him…a type unbefitting of the Euclides. No doubt their creator would have avoided it if it had come about before the creation of the Amuni. Saved it for their pious cousins, mongerers of sinners’ flesh.

Kaemonji was jerked out of his thoughts by Armande’s question, swinging his head around and quickly replacing the sullen frown with a more joyous (if faux) smile.

“Hm?” his memory reached back, attempting to recall what his gentleman had asked. Ah, yes. “No, no…I am fine Vi- Armandejah. I am just…thinking.”

They turned one last corner of the labyrinth and were faced with the cool darkness of the park, the hazey silhouette of the carousal gleaming like pearl and gold in the moonlight.

A triumphant smirk graced Kaemonji’s muzzle and he craned his head upward to Armande, eye filled with pride,” I have found our way out.”

[silverdust]

Armande noticed the sudden turn of face. The Puppeteer was hiding, his story, his emotions, but then again the chiroptae was doing the same. But they made such exquisite masks for themselves, it couldn't all be a farce and shame. These things would unravel when they had time for that, and no sooner. After all, he wasn't sure if he really wanted them to, and ruin the surreal perfection of this night, of these moments.

But then the end was in sight, and he knew, somewhere, that there acquaintance would certainly take a different turn from this point on. No longer so innocent, then, if they meant to court the darker god.

"Then, it is time I held up my promise," Armande stepped past Kaemonji, brushing against his shoulder in an almost tender gesture of camraderie. He looked back, his face twisted in a halfhearted smile.

"I cannot call the children; they are soulless and my strings do not reach them. But they wander the park at night, and I am sure we can find one."

[iprince]

Kaemonji had waited over a century to find Jiarokumo, surely a few more moments wouldn’t hurt. His patience certainly wouldn’t wear thin over a few hours (or minutes, if luck was with him that night), not with such a long back-story in comparison.

“I do not mind the wait, if they are not here,” he took a few quiet steps toward his gentleman, pausing before him and sliding down to sit on muscled haunches. His gaze did not linger on Armande though, stretching out over the sea of dark grass and hedges instead, as if, perhaps, he might spy a promised child amongst the shadows.

There were none, none at least that his eyes could see. His tail flicked against his haunches, nervous and filled with anxiety. What if they did not appear at all? Surely, even if there were hundreds, there were many more places to see than this humble park. If they did not come this night, would his gentleman still be willing to help him?

Kaemonji’s head swiveled toward Armande, a slow, elegant motion, followed by a lazy blinking of blank eyes,” What if they do not come this night?”

[silverdust]

The next words were spoken with a slow certainty, the kind that could shift worlds by belief along. Because Armande had broken too many promises in the past, and he would not allow another. This was a second life he had been granted; it would not turn out as it first had and those mistakes couldn't be repeated. If not for his sake...Kaemonji's certainly. Even if this world existed on the pain of innocents, he would do all in his power to spare the leonine.

Why? A chance meeting, fate. He did not question his reason, not with this.

"They will come," his eyes flicked to the bushes the moment he sensed their movement, and his mouth curled into a strange smile, moonlight glinting off of the ivory tips of his fangs. "This park is the center of their world."

With that the leaves parted, and she stepped into the light. A small cub, female, a dissidence of colors against the night. Those deadly spikes, sign of Jiarokumo's lineage, rose about her shoulders in a fan of thorns. She walked like a queen with the subtle swagger of the demimonde, and her eyes were blank and glinting, like chips of ice. She came to them without shame or respect, even though no tophat or fine jewels graced her, nothing but that arrogance that could only stem from one bloodline.



"You were calling for me Armandejah," the voice was a sibillant singsong purr; she flicked her tail like a serpent. "It's been a very, very long time since you've done that."

She cocked her head to the side and her smile was all teeth as she took in Kaemonji. "Are you going to introduce me, or will I have to do it myself?"

She was a demon's child, that was for sure, but Armandejah had grown accustomed to her. She may only be a Puppeteer, but she knew she was Jiarokumo's, and it was a part she played well. "Akaesha'bine, daughter of the fourth brood."

He glanced back at Kaemonji, evenly, and somewhat apologetic. He hadn't necessarily thought that he would bring out this one, but it was as far as his influence extended. But at least it was something.

Akaesha's eyes changed slightly, the glimmer going from teasing to suspicious. "You...you smell familiar. Like my blood, only...fainter. Just who are you?"

((Agh x.X My friend brought over her dogs to babysit and in the conditioning stage I lost my muse ^^;; sorry if this is crap >.>))

[iprince]

Kaemonji’s gaze followed Armande’s through the darkness, landing on the shivering bushes. His heart pounded wildly against his chest, thrumming in his ears…only to increase its excitement tenfold when the little feline extracted herself from the foliage. She was uncharacteristically tiny, but she screamed of Jiaro’s lineage. The perfect hues, the cluster of spines sprouting from her shoulders.

And the pride.

He listened to their banter in silence, his blood strumming through his veins as if fused with energy. He could feel his muscles tensing and twitching with the urge to bound forward, to greet her…but he kept silent through their introduction, bowing his head hastily when her name was properly given.

Kaemonji’s eyes darted up at Armande’s apologetic look. An apology? For this? No, there was no need for that. He beamed at him in attempt to dispel such foolish thoughts. Kaemonji couldn’t have asked for a sweeter gift, and he knew full well the arrogance of Jiarokumo. It was only proper his children would share the attitude.

At Akaesha'bine’s question, Kaemonji attention was drawn back to her. His grin went from excited to soft, and he took a careful step toward her, paws placed almost hesitantly on the grass.

“I am Kaemonji,” he paused…ears flicking back against his skull. Introductions would reveal himself to his gentleman… But finding Jiaro was more important than keeping an acquaintance.

“…I am cousin to Jiarokumo. You are his daughter, yes?”

He didn’t bother speaking in his native tongue to her. She was born in England to an English mother (probably), and he could not know for sure whether she would understand the language.

[silverdust]

"Kaemonji?" She laughed and rose, winding herself around the youth with an unabashed coyness. "Well, yes, I am a daughter of Jiarokumo. It seems those pretty eyes of yours are working."

Her ears flicked back, but not in any motion of acquiesence of respect, rather a kind of bemused scorn. "You are father's cousin? I do not see how, your are far too soft. I can smell it, you and your fears, your simpering. Just how did you come into contact with this black sheep, Armandejah?"

She looked toward the Director, standing still and poised as if he had not heard of Kaemonji's relation. It was clear now, and he couldn't help feeling the slightest bit relieved that Kaemonji's was the dark god's cousin and not...something more intimate. But then again there was still that twist of anxiety. It was well-known how Jiarokumo had slaughtered most of his cast, including family, for his position of power. Blood would not save Kaemonji anymore than it bound him.

"Chance, Akaesha'bine," he replied neutrally, meeting Kaemonji's eyes over the young girl's head. No, his relation to Jiarokumo changed nothing of their relation, of his own growing affection. If anything, he was more determined to make sure nothing ill befell the Puppeteer in his near suicidal quest.

"He wishes to see Jiarokumo; would you be willing to lead us to the theatre?"

The young puppeteer paused, and her head once again did a slow tilt sideways and her tail curled into a question mark. "I? Oh but I know nothing of this strange one claiming to be my relation. There is the scent of our blood on him, yes, but that cannot be trusted. What if there is strife between father and he? Not saying that this one would stand a chance, but Jiarokumo will be angry with me for leading home a stray with murderous intent."

Playing her torturous little games again, that sadist. But Armandejah could do nothing; to raise a hand against Jiarokumo's brood was a death in itself, and he could not speak for Kaemonji's bloodline, for he had not known till bare moments ago. He had nothing but the vague feeling of the youth's sincerity, and a desperation that bordered on obsession. For now, it was out of his control.

[iprince]

Soft? Oh, yes. Terribly so. Soft, acquiescent, and obedient. Kaemonji would not dare to raise voice, paw, or argument against one of a higher rank than he. Killing in itself was a cautious process, being a prayer type Kaemonji was forced to let many a victim go, so undesirable (or contradicting to his own goals) were their wishes. He was, indeed, soft. His time with the naga furthering that ailment.

He was not proud of it, of course, but it was not…not so much of a vice as one might think. A predator could be sweetened and humble, but still capable of doing what must be done.

She spoke so prettily. Kaemonji had to strain his ears to catch the words, like little English poems flowing from her mouth. She was terribly difficult to translate. There were so many large, unusual words scattered about her sentences…it was nearly impossible to tell what she was saying. But she had declined his gentleman’s request, that much was clear.

He could not be trusted.

Kaemonji’s head snapped toward Armande, as if the chiroptae might somehow help him. But, alas, he could do nothing. He turned back to the babe with lowered eyes and flattened ears, adrenaline still rushing through his veins like pounding hail.

“You do not need to show me. If you told me where it was, I will find it. Jiarokumo will not know you were my guide.” He had been looking for such a long time…he could not fail simply because a cub was being stubborn. Not this close. Not when he had waited so long, done so much.

“Or you could tell him of me. If he wishes to see me we could meet.” Surely Jiaro would not decline the possibility of seeing him again? After Kaemonji had been so very worshipful of him. So very subservient and willing to please. Who had compliantly treated him like the god he was?

He turned his eyes back on Armande; pleading, hoping, and hopeless.

[silverdust]

Akaesha'bine caught the exchanged glances; she was a child yes, but she was no fool. It was an interesting tangle indeed, and all the better for her to play with. The games of children, the ruin of men.

"He can't help you once I've made up my mind; I truly don't care how infatuated he is with you," she smirked to see the Director stiffen, then yawned a little, glancing upward at the moon. "It's a good thing for you then, 'cousin', that I haven't decided quite yet."

The anxiety that emanated from the leonine was almost tangible, tantalizing over her tongue. Indeed, she should lead him just to feel it wash through her, lead him up and down and around the city until she got bored. She might do just that...but then there was the factor of Armande. And that one was tricky indeed, for even if she was Jiarokumo's child, he still outranked her. It was mere luck that the other didn't know just how vulnerable she truly was. Jiarokumo could care less of his children, he had so many, and her death would be taken not as a sign of war but as the outcome of her own weakness, her own foolishness. But she had no intention of letting that slip.

"Would you beg for him, Armandejah? Get down on your knees, grovel, whatever I desire?" she batted her eyes lazily. "He's already spineless enough; asking him would be no fun at all."

Armandejah kept his eyes blank and carefully hidden as he contemplated the Akaesha's game. It was a game after all, one that she played many a time. If he didn't respond in the right way, eventually she would get bored. A child's game is just a matter of its players, after all. He shook his head, the beads giving an eerie tinkle.

"And how would that benefit you, Akaesha? It would be a selfless act," he glanced briefly at Kaemonji. "Tell me how to find the theatre, that's all I ask. I will lead him there, and whatever punishment Jiarokumo hands out will be on my head alone. There is nothing you can gain from keeping this secret."

Akaesha sneered at him, her teeth needles in the moonlight. "Oh aren't you just the Prince Charming tonight? Bend backwards for one who has about as much spine as Sethekaju. Find then, go die. Be sure to have one of my puppets watching, I'd wouldn't want to miss, you know. Or maybe Daddy will make an example of you."

She looked backward at Kaemonji and hissed, apparently not even deeming him worthy of scornful words. With a few fell flicks of her claw, she gouged the theatre's location into the ground and with a last crooked wink at the Director, she was gone to the shadows. Armandejah watched her go. Akaesha did not forget her grudges, and to be sure he had forged one tonight. She would certainly come for her ends.

Somehow, it didn't seem to matter much anymore.

[iprince]

Kaemonji had sat back quietly during the exchange, catching what words he could and filling in the others with possibilities and speculations. There was cruelty in the bebe’s words, directed at his gentleman, not him, and that made something else thrum through his veins. Something much less pleasurable than the promise of Jiaro. This wasn’t Armande’s quest. She had no reason to put this on his shoulders.

‘Infatuation’ was a difficult word, that Kaemonji could neither pick out nor translate. If Armande’s desire to keep their acquaintance innocent, such as it were, it was saved.

Kaemonji watched her scratch her drawing in the earth with a lowered head that lifted itself only once she had hissed out her displeasure and disappeared back into the night. But even then, he did not look to Armande, shifting his gaze to stare away from him, back at the hedge.

“I have caused trouble.” She was young, and Kaemonji did not believe there was truly much she could do. Her belittling merely the taunts of children. But he had started something, perhaps even shamed his gentleman. Neither of which were pleasant thoughts.

He turned back to him, finally,” You do not need to bring me to the theatre. I…do not want to cause you harm,” he waved a paw over the drawings,” I can find my way with these. I am…grateful for your help though,” he paused, brow scrunching up in thought, attempting to drag words to the forefront of his mind,” I…am in debt to you, for your troubles.”

[silverdust]

It was funny indeed, but Armande was perhaps feeling just as guilty as Kaemonji. He hadn't wanted to cause the boy such trouble in his quest, even though he did give him the means of finding its end. But even in that, he had put him in more danger than ever before, out of favor with a child of Jiarokumo and then right into the great cat's claws.

"There was no trouble that was not there before, Kaemonji," he gave what was almost a sigh, still looking toward the young girl's exit. "Akaesha'bine has always been like that. A child."

He turned his head to regard his companion. Even though he was so close to his goal, he still had the look of being lost. A foreigner in the worst place of all. There was no way that he could possibly let him go alone.

"You can repay your debt now," Armande regarded the drawings in the ground, taking in their feral haphazardy. "Allow me to come with you, for my own peace of mind. If anything were to happen to you, I would have a hand, and I cannot allow that."