Rainblade-Ryalors Private Zann's Alley/Backyard Sic Semper Impeccabilis

Dusk Rainblade

Duchess of Westisle
Staff member
Minister: Misanthropy
Influence
13,483.00
Dusk drew all the heavy curtains in her manor one by one, despite the summer heat. Normally she kept the sheer curtains drawn to obscure any sightlines that assassins might use for a shot, only drawing the heavies in winter, but today called for extra secrecy. She didn't bother to light the candles in most of her rooms, in part because she rarely used them, and in part because there was only one where she would be hosting company today, that being the eastern drawing room. Dusk rarely used it, mostly because she couldn't enter it without imagining Julia Freedom sitting in the same chair where she'd once hosted Dusk, back when she'd been living under the name Dawn Mistrunner. It was a shame that the guilt rendered it so untenable, because it was actually quite nicely decorated, a pale green wallpaper atop white-painted wood panels running the first three feet up the wall, and pale-cushioned sofa, couch, and chair set gathered around a fine maple coffee table, each either embroidered or painted with golden ferns. It was, sadly, the only room in the house that was in fit condition for hosting guests, largely because Dusk could never bear to throw out anything from it. As if preserving one room could make up for how you betrayed her.

Dusk prepared a full tea set in the kitchen and fetched a bottle of wine up from the cellar, picking one of her finer bottles, a '37 from a vineyard in Eastisle where a newlywed Talinn and Dusk had taken their honeymoon in the villa overlooking the endless row of vines. She'd kept two whole boxes of wine, which she'd sparingly touched over the years, largely reserving it for special occasions like major anniversaries and when her children had each reached the age of majority. This occasion, which would begin the ascent of her once rival and now dear friend to a position of power to rival Dusk's own, surely qualified for such. Carefully Dusk poured the bottle into a crystal decanter, letting it aerate as she waited for her guests to arrive. This would be the first time she'd ever had guests in her home, and, aside from her nerves, she was eager to welcome them both in.
 
Orina walked the tree-lined streets of Zann's Backyard on the usual route she took after a long day at the Ministry to clear her head. The familiar, faint click click of her prosthetic leg sounded with each articulation of the ankle joint as her slightly-limping gait brought her to a junction where she typically turned left. This afternoon, however, the black squirrel made a right.

She knew were Dusk lived, but never met with the vixen in her home. Neither had Dusk been to her home, the two keeping their relationship to public spaces and offices. It was not unheard of for beasts from Misanthropy and Niceties to develop professional relationships--indeed, the Ministries had been working together more closely than ever before since the end of the Civil War--but the type of friendship between Orina and Dusk was an unlikely one to be sure. The possibilities afforded by an alliance between beasts of their wills, aspirations, and resources were such that they could change the trajectory of Imperial politics, and therefore culture and history, should they simply decide to do so.

The Vice Minister of Niceties ascended the front steps of Freedom Manor. She raised her paw to the door and knocked, a soft smile settling upon her lips. Though a phantom pain lanced through the space where her leg no longer was, her smile did not falter. It was the loss of that limb that had brought her here, a journey begun in the throes of what had seemed like defeat but was only a setback that launched her into a trajectory far grander and more meaningful than she had previously dared to imagine. And here she was, nearly at the precipice of years of work and planning, waiting on the doorstep of the friend who would help make possible the final step in her patiently implemented scheme.
 
It was a matter of seconds before there was the rasp of a bolt being drawn, then another, another, another... it was a full minute of locks being disengaged before finally the door swung open. "I'm so sorry about the delay, Ori," Dusk apologized as she held the door open. "I didn't consider how my security measures might be an impediment. You look well! Is that a new shirt?" she inquired, stepping back to let her friend into the parlor. Her smile was the genuine, relaxed one she reserved only for those she trusted, an expression which had never been seen in public before. She'd certainly mastered the art of plastering on a polite crescent smile, one she could hold with a form of social rigor mortis, but it was only in private that she allowed her face to fully relax, the rightmost corner of her mouth pulled slightly up into a hint of amusement. As soon as the door was closed, she stepped in to give her friend a welcoming hug. "Oh, it's good to see you again," she sighed. "Please, come on in! We'll be in the drawing room today. Please excuse the mess, I'm not the best when it comes to dusting."
 
Orina returned the hug with genuine affection. "It's good to see you, too. Thank you for hosting our meeting." She waved away Dusk's worry over the state of the dusting. "I could care less if you dusted, Dusk. You're a busy vixen, cleaning house is barely a concern when you're managing a portion of the Imperium."

As she followed the fox further into the house, Orina took in the decor and layout of the manor, committing it to memory as was her habit in new locations. "It was lovely seeing you at the concert last week. I'm sorry I didn't get a chance to talk to you afterwards, the orchestra insisted on dragging me out for drinks to celebrate the performance."
 
Dusk smiled as she noticed Orina engaged in the same habit as she always did, mapping the exits, entrances, and potential threat lines as she went. It was one of those habits they'd both acquired from the lives they led, even though they'd spent their careers largely on the opposite sides of Imperial law. Coming in from the rain, so to speak, had been a jarring transition for both of them, Orina more than Dusk due to the lack of choice in the matter.

"It's fine," she excused her friend's apology, waving her paw dismissively. "Your performance was excellent as always. I honestly should have sent flowers, but I was in a strange mindset after seeing my sister and thought you'd throw them out, believing they were poisoned. It's the sort of thing Tanya would believe of me - probably because I got rid of a few husbands that way," she added with a playful smile.

"Speaking of," she commented as she led the way into the drawing room, dimly lit with a few candles burning on wall mounts and on the cough-ee table, "we'll really need to do something about your bachelorette status one of these days. You know, one of my assets in Alkamar was telling me about a... well, I'm not quite sure of the title, but he's basically an assistant to one of their dons on the military oversight committee, and he might be defecting if it looks like le bureau de contre-espionnage catches onto him. Assuming we can get him out of the country alive, I could always introduce you two."
 
Orina flicked her tail in amusement. "Who says I'm looking for a husband? Or a wife, for that matter. Spouses are nothing but trouble and heartache, are they not?" She smirked. "Unless your defector is into a more open arrangement, then I could be tempted."

She found herself a seat in one of the chairs beside the low table and took in the room with an appreciative nod. "You know, you really ought to entertain more. This place has a lot of potential. I know a rat who puts on some very interesting parties, and she's often looking for venues. The castles in the IRA are interesting, but at some point you've seen one dungeon, you've seen them all. A manor like this could certainly work for those with more, ah, intimate tastes."
 
Dusk let out a small chuckle at the mention of the potential use of the manor. "As delightful as it would be to see if such activities could summon the scowling ghost of Anithias from the depths of Hell itself, I think I might need to pass. After letting that many people into this space, I don't think I could ever sleep securely again. As it is, you and Tanya are the first guests I'll have ever hosted here. Feel free to take that as the compliment it is." She reached for the teapot on the set laid out on the table, busying herself with preparing tea for them both. "Milk or sugar?"
 
"Well, I'm honored." Orina leaned down and lifted her left pant leg several inches to adjust a bolt near the ankle joint of the prosthetic. "Sugar please."

There was a small click and the ankle flexed further. "Ah, there it is. It just started getting stuck this morning at certain angles. Going to have to take a file to that bolt later." She watched as Dusk prepared the tea. "So, your sister, Tanya. I did some searching through Niceties records. She has quite the resume in the Imperium, even served as an Unsmudgable, I saw. And like so many in this interesting city, seems to have the propensity for coming back from the dead, given she's gracing our shores once again. Is there anything I should be aware of in our interaction, any subjects to avoid or details of note?"
 
"Hmm." Dusk had to ponder that. "Well, avoid mentioning the Freemonts, in case it comes up. From what I gather, they're still a bit of a sore subject for her. Oh," she added, her tone turning urgent. "You might hear us talking about our niece, Mina Rose. It's very important that whatever we say not leave this house. Is that acceptable?" She trusted Orina greatly, but the matter of Mina Rose was still fraught enough that, for now at least, Dusk wanted to keep that affair strictly within the family. If anyone realized the leverage that the girl presented on the Minister of Misanthropy, it would swiftly become a nightmare. She kept her face a mask of passivity as she offered the freshly prepared tea.
 
Taking the tea, Orina blew on the surface. "Completely acceptable. I am no stranger to discretion." She took a sip, nodding appreciatively before continuing. "The Freemonts, though. Her, ah, involvement with the death of the husband was some time ago, wasn't it? Before I even came to the Imperium, at least."

She set the tea cup on its plate, one brow slightly raised. "Strange coincidence you should mention them. I found out not two weeks ago from a connection in War that their son is back. Seems to be keeping his head down, though. What a small world we live in that Tanya and the last survivor of that family come back to the Imperium at the same time."
 
The scent of salt still clung to Tanya’s fur (though rarely did it leave) as she made her way through the city streets on a meandering path of nostalgia to Freedom Manor. The Sparrowsong had proven a fine enough craft, all told, and she’d indulged in a few extra hours seeing the ship’s maintenance be carried out to a satisfactory degree when the summons came. The time and place, at least, had afforded her the opportunity to reflect on what her presence might be requiring.

It was an automatic route the once-Minister took, one she had taken many times in her youth after the Hide had made berth and all paperwork been accounted for, keen to visit the Freedoms and catch up on what was happening on land or at sea. Zann’s was not a place the vixen had ever felt her rough edges fit well within and subconsciously she picked up her pace to a trot.

The sight of the manor’s frontage caused her to pause as unbidden memories threatened. It looked almost frozen in time, the signs of age and change lost on the overwhelming familiarity of the building at large. Poor Julia. That Dusk had chosen this as their meeting venue, her supposed residence…it left a myriad of emotions roiling in her stomach, and none were worth contemplating in the moment. There was work to be done, and she could hardly resent these echoes in a city of ghosts when she had lived as one herself all these years.

Raking claws through her headfur to drag it into some semblance of style, the vixen drew a slow breath and banged on the door, a little more forcefully than intended. Perhaps it was a subconscious attempt to reassure: it would have been possible with a little effort to find a way inside and make a more dramatic entrance. This way, at least, she was announcing her presence.
 
Dusk pursed her lips, about to inquire as to the particulars of this specific heir to a political dynasty, but the opportunity was sent fleeing by the pounding on the door. The corner of Dusk's mouth twitched. "That would be Tanya," she quipped. "She has a certain brash style to her entrances, not unlike a cannonball or a rampaging badger. One moment, Orina."

She got up and went back out to the parlor, using a small mirror to check through the peephole she'd drilled in the door. She'd long been paranoid about some sort of dart of poison being forced through the hole, and proceeded with a suitable overabundance of caution. On recognizing Tanya, she relaxed - mostly, at least. The news of Mina Rose being found alive had been a welcome development, though there had been sparse details beyond that. Not that it would do for her to rush off and meet her estranged daughter. She was, after all, supposed to be playing the role of aunt for the girl's own safety. Dusk finished throwing off the few bolts she'd put back in place and opened the door, stepping back to admit her sister with a smile and an arm offering a hug. "Tanya dear," she greeted her family member, beckoning her inside. "Please, please, come in! I'm so glad you made it back safely - you and your passenger both." There was true gratitude underlying the remark, small tears brimming at the corners of her eyes. She would truly never be able to repay Tanya for delivering her daughter from whatever danger had beset her.
 
The squirrel laughed heartily at Dusk's description of her sister. As the vixen left, Orina took another sip of her tea and sat back in the chair. She looked around the room, ears pricking to listen to the words spoken from the entryway. While she had done a great deal of research on Tanya for this meeting, as there was quite a bit of history and records to sift through regarding the vixen, it was always a different experience meeting a beast in the flesh. And she wanted this meeting to go well. A great deal of her work over the past several years hinged on the next few hours and whether or not she and Dusk could convince Tanya to participate in their scheme to change the Niceties regime.
 
For Tanya’s part it was a far easier role to play considering her own relationship to the vixen in question needed no alterations. Bizarre as it still felt to share this newfound familial care with Dusk, Tanya was all too happy to accept the embrace, ensuring the door was closed behind them. “Ahh you know me,” she chuckled, “sea’s where I’m best kept. More risk of me trippin’ on the cobbles than getting lost at sea.”

Pulling away to regard her sibling with momentary softness in her eyes, she gave Dusk’s shoulders an encouraging squeeze. “My passenger’s settling in as we speak, thought they’d best have some time to themselves to get acquainted with their living space. I’m sure we can have a proper catch-up later on.”

Almost at once the softness was gone, masked by well-crafted pleasantry and a glimmer of humour. It was a talent she knew her sister had perfected far better than she, a necessity of sigh levels of power. This was not the time or place to be speaking of Mina Rose, not her impressions of the young vixen.

“Enough of old news! I got your summons and can’t say I’m not curious about what you want my ratty ol’ carcass here for. Just been doing a scrape-down of some deck timbers so I’m not exactly best-dressed for anythin’ too fancy.”
 
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