You Oughta Know

*Raisa* · 03-22-2014, 06:54 PM

The elegant fae introduced herself as the Queen of Tortuga, Roman... Armada. Raisa quirked a brow, wondering how such a mannerly, seemingly respectable woman could bear any relation to the northern king who had come to sweet talk the sooty fae a moon before. Raisa let a small smile curl onto her lips and a gentle chuckle out to grace the air. "A pleasure, Mistress Roman. I am Raisa Xanilov, Queen of the Ebony throne. Might I ask what relation you bear-" Her words were cut off by the sound of approach. Her words froze upon her dark lips, as her eyes fell upon the first friend she had made in this new realm. She remembered the dark conversation they'd had not long ago, and still didn't know how she felt about it all. It had been quite the blow, but the man she knew did not seem to bear relation to whoever he was. The Queen watched as the strangest look came to seed upon his visage, growing and and festering until his body was taught with tension. Fear glimmered in shining eyes, and his breathing sped. In a choked voice he spoke. "My....my queen... You speak to the woman I defiled." Raisa felt her heart stutter within her chest, squeeze so tight she thought certainly it must be nigh on bursting. A cold concoction of fear and shock and anger began to fill her bones.

She opened her mouth to speak, to say anything, but she could not before a number of others amongst her pack ranks were drawn onto the scene. Maximous came first, apparently having heard just enough to decide he did not like what was taking place. He came to stand between the two fae's and Fugue, taking an aggressive stance. Platinum was hard on his heels, her immense form over-reaching all the others in attendance. She emanated a tense sort of power, similar to aggression, yet restrained. Her words seemed well intentioned, but Raisa had seen enough of politics to know this meeting had already flung far south in a matter of moments. Kaliska was not far off, the spitfire with a good heart, and wit too quick for her own good. Raisa let her eyes fall closed in a long blink, waiting for what she knew was inevitable, and letting out a long sigh. "You better find a damn good way to make amends Fugue," she said with all the intimidation her stature could afford, "Before I hand her your balls myself." It was too much to take in at one time and Raisa drew herself up. She was a queen, no? It was not an empty title, all the wolves before her were her vassals, save for one. Tact was in great need in these situations and she immediately made a note to travel to the remaining alphas alone, seeing as pissing off the nobility of far-flung realms was seemingly a trend. "Silence!" Her voice cracked out over the conglomeration of hostility and anxiety like a whip.

Fugue still trembled among it all, terrified and remorseful. His apology was not lost on her, but she could make heads or tails of the immensity of her actions until she had some space and time to think. Raisa waited until the last moment to spare a look at Roman, hoping instead that if the woman lunged for Fugue or herself at least one of them might have the good sense to get the poor man out of the way. He had committed a grievous crime, this could not be denied, but he was still a wolf of Ebony, and it was her duty to protect him. Instead her searing fire and ice gaze fell upon every member of Ebony in attendance, before settling on the Tortugan alphess. "Well, well, well. What an event this has turned out to be. Do you demand right of retribution?" Her voice was level, but it had lost some of it's elegant warmth. It would be clear to all that the sooty queen was not playing the game of royals now, no, it was more than that. If Roman did demand Fugue's punishment, be it by her fangs or Raisa's the sooty queen would wait and see. It would all spiral away from that simple fact, and Raisa waited atop the razor's blade to see what she would choose.

"Talk" "You" Think

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