Rainblade-Ryalors Private Barracks/Imperial Condos Such Devoted Sisters

[Duchess Dusk Rainblade]

"You're sure it's her this time?" Dusk asked critically, checking her makeup in a small mirror she kept in her desk drawer. She touched up her purple eye shadow with a small brush as her assistant Marisha hovered, assorted high-profile reports in the calico cat's arms. None would be read this afternoon, it seemed. "I don't want to find myself face to face again with some unfortunate doppelganger again. It's getting very expensive to clean up after these mistakes. That cocktail of drugs to muddle their memories isn't cheap you know."

"The snatch team is confident this time, Minister. For one, it appears she came willingly."

"She surrendered herself?"

"Not immediately; one of the team is being treated for a bite wound. Still, as soon as they identified themselves as M.A.U.L. acting on your orders, she ceased struggling immediately and said, per their paraphrase, 'Well, let's get going, can't keep my sister waiting'."

"I'm sure it sounded more charismatic in her accent. Well, after the sighting of Jeshal in the warehouse district, I suppose this is just confirmation that they're really back. 'Gates, Occult Division really made a meal out of that one. They're going to look like a right set of rat tails over that."

"Pardon, Minister, but I'm afraid that phrase is-"

"Do you see the word 'Niceties' on the crest above the door, Marisha? It's just you and me here, I'll say what I want to. Now, go bring her in."

"Yes Minister."

Marisha went to the door on the distant wall, poking her head out and saying something that couldn't be well discerned across the distance. Then the doors opened fully and two cloaked M.A.U.L. agents walked in, escorting a beast with a black bag over her head between them. Their reflection was mirrored in the glossy black onyx floor, the imperfections of which made it appear like walking on a field of stars. That had been one of Minister Nicolas's vanity touches, one which Dusk actually appreciated. It was difficult to keep clean and waxed, but she thought it was worth it. She'd added a touch of her own, replacing the large window overlooking the Harbor with a stained glass version resembling the M.A.U.L. crest, three daggers coming together a their points in a Y shape, now with a stylized eye added in the middle to remind the Imperium that Misanthropy was always watching. Dusk loved how, when the light came in just right, it back lit her in the most delightfully sinister way. After all, if she was to be Minister of Misanthropy, she might as well embrace the villainous aesthetic.

The agents guided the hooded beast, paws bound before her, and led her to sit in a comfy padded armchair before Dusk's desk. She had a whole closet of chairs nearby ranging from the plush to the agonizing, depending on who was coming in and the tone she wanted to set. This was, she hoped, going to be a friendly meeting.

"Remove her hood," Dusk instructed. One of the agents grabbed the hood by its tip and pulled it off, leaving the vixen beneath exposed. Dusk felt her heart leap into her throat. 'Gates, it was Tanya. She'd heard that Talinn had made contact with her, commissioned some work from her specifically, but by that point she'd barely been on speaking terms with her husband and hadn't wanted to ask. Still, despite the changes to her face that thirty years had wrought - changes that Dusk knew very well had acted upon her as well - the beast was unmistakably Tox.

"Hello sister," Dusk said, her tone softer than she'd expected from herself. "Welcome home."

 

[Tanya Keltoi]

No matter what her pride continued to argue this was still, all things considered, the best option for getting the audience she was seeking. Tanya had arrived back upon the Imperium’s shores amidst a maelstrom of mixed emotions – emotions which were shelved the moment she read of her sister’s current Ministerial post. With her network of contacts severely diminished and few resources she could leverage to gain access to her sister, the M.A.U.L agents (once disclosed as such) had proven a timely intervention after all.

Besides, she’d only just re-sharpened her claws: it would have been a shame to blunt them with climbing the walls. Let the work of bringing her in sit on Misanthropy’s books.

Funny. For a trio of orphans, the three of us didn’t end up doing so bad after all.

As she was guided to sit (nice chair. Feels ominous) Tanya found herself suddenly appreciating the bag over her head. The barrier of fabric, for this brief time, afforded some small protection as Tox worked to gain control over her face and emotions in advance of the meeting. It had been decades since their last conversation and ‘Gates if she could even remember a word of what was said, only the distinct animosity and mistrust. What was her sister even thinking and feeling towards her; why go to the trouble of still having beasts watch for her when she had shown so little interest in returning for all of these years? That Dusk was part of Misanthropy didn’t exactly foster much hope in there being a change in her sibling, an audience was at least not an assassination. Directly.

Tentative hope warred with curiosity warred with mistrust. When the bag was lifted, she initially squinted in the bright contrast which backlit Dusk in all her glory until last she could discern her features. Tanya took her in in an instant. For all the years which had passed, she could not look on her sister and lie: in her eyes the seasons had been exceedingly kind. She always was the beautiful one, and that had clearly not changed.

Whatever flicker of vulnerability might have registered was hastily suppressed for an impassive stare. Tox’ paws had been making small movements throughout the walk to assess how to escape the bindings at her wrists, but she was out of practice: it would take a few more minutes yet before she could slip them, if only for her own comfort. She was hardly going to ask politely.

When it came, her response was decidedly stiff, an unspoken demand that she would not drop such defences in the presence of the M.A.U.L agents. “Home’s not here,” she sniffed. “Anyways, why the bag for bringing me in? Do you think I’d not manage to find this place even after all these years, or you just showin’ off your toys for my benefit?” Green eyes swept briefly over the stained glass. Alright, the avaricious side of her did rather like the opulence. “All very nice I’m sure, but you didn’t bring me all the way in just for a tour, did you?” A crooked grin settled on her face. “Don’t tell me you missed me, now.”

 

[Duchess Dusk Rainblade]

Dusk felt a small, childlike mirth rising in her at her sister's petulance, her mind suddenly flashing back to a toddler Tanya sitting on the floor of their mother's tiny cottage, tearing apart a doll. It had been one of Dusk's favorites, but she'd carelessly left it out and Tanya had been teething then. Dusk had cried and stomped her foot, but their mother had told her not to yell at her sister, and Dusk had been the one who had gotten in trouble for making a fuss. That became our entire life, she realized in a moment. Me trying to take from her like she took that doll from me. It couldn't be that simple, could it? A childhood slight from so long ago, it had nearly passed out of Dusk's memories and surely didn't persist in Tanya's?

This is going to be quite the mess to work out in my next session with Thistle.

She let the mirth bubble up inside her, keeping that emotion and repressing the ugly well of resentment that threatened to burst through the hole it left behind. "Oh, I missed you, in a fashion," she chuckled, a high, breathy laugh escaping her in a moment of calculated release. "I missed our sparring, the competition, all of the pettiness we could afford when we were young. Then you left, and I remained, and life happened. So many moments of significance, moments of personal triumph and bitter defeat... and I had no one to share them with. I stood alone at Khan's grave when he died - not even the children by his first marriage showed up. I found and lost lovers, I got married, had kits - I know, right? Who would have ever expected me to become a mother?" Her eyes shimmered slightly with tears as she admitted, "Through it all, I wished you were there, Tanya. I don't know if I wanted to rub it in your face, to prove that I could do it all better than you, or if I just wanted someone to be there with me, someone who would understand, but... Well, either way, I wanted you there."

She cleared her throat, quickly dabbing at her eyes with the pad of her paw before reaching to a drawer in her desk. She pulled out a bottle of Maquistry '46 she'd stashed away for an opportunity to celebrate, and set it on the desk, followed by a corkscrew. Two crystal goblets followed after. "So, here you are," she noted as she started to work the screw into the cork. "And now, thirty years later, we finally can catch up. To say all the things we never did. So..." She pulled out the cork, then started pouring the rich burgundy liquid into the glasses. "How have you been, dear sister? How is your life?"

 

[Tanya Keltoi]

Rarely had the advent of teary eyes had any impact on Tanya’s approach. Today was no exception. Her smirk had dropped in the face of Dusk’s reply but otherwise remained inscrutable as she stared at her sister. Usually she could get a decent read on other beasts, but she always had been that little bit too good at manipulation: whether Dusk was being genuine or not she could not discern.

The only flicker came as a brief furrowing of the brows at the mention of Khan. Rapidly she flicked back through her memory for a face to the name, trying to piece together what relevance it held. An old todd at last came to mind; a crewbeast, though ultimately she’d had little to do with him. A grumpy sort if she recalled. What in ‘Gates would Dusk even care about the death of some old fox? Unease began to settle in the pit of her stomach, and though creeping dread nagged at her to ask she did not yet voice the question. She suspected her sister wanted her to and she was unwilling to give her the satisfaction.

Instead Tox eyed the goblets for a moment before turning her attention back to the agents who had brought her in. “Your Minister’s looking rather upset, don’t you think? Perhaps you’d better go find her a kerchief or velvet cushion or whatever Misanthropy weeps into these days. Be dears, would you?” It was quite likely that Dusk might not allow them to excuse themselves from the room as a safety precaution, but that being so Tanya was unwilling to play anything but the obstinate brat. It always did come naturally around Dusk; something about her very mannerisms seemed to bring it out as though making stark relief of the sisters.

Turning back, fixing Dusk with her stare in what she hoped was a clear message of intent, Tanya sunk back into the plush chair. After a moment’s pause, she shrugged her narrow shoulders. “Life’s been good,” she replied, still guarded. “Simple. Funny ‘ow much space in the brain a city like this takes up. Got to raise my own kits – and if I can have ‘em, don’t really shock me much you could be a mother too.” Her nose wrinkled; a genuine smile flashed across her face, if only for a moment. “So I’m an aunt again, eh? Who’s the todd responsible for such a travesty? I allowed to meet ‘em or has that ship sailed and all?”

It was clear that she was deliberately skirting those deeper moments; the commentary on her absence and Dusk’s loneliness through her trials and tribulations. Tox had had to live with all she had left behind – as of her departure she’d have believed her sibling only too happy to be rid of her. That she could be missed was almost…baffling. Comforting? Hard to believe. It tugged at something vulnerable in Tanya, the potential that her only immediate blood relative might be genuine: the chance to repair something before either of them were left alone. “Say all the things we never did, was it? In the hopes of what, understanding? reconciliation?”

 

[Duchess Dusk Rainblade]

Surprisingly, at Tanya's suggestion to the agents, Dusk made a shooing motion with her paw, and the pair left the room - whether or not to seek out a kerchief remaining to be seen. Dusk's smile turned slightly wry at Tanya's impulse to deflect by being a little brat; it was amazing how being around each other again could reduce them to the kits they'd once been, or at least to a version of the kithood they hadn't gotten together.

"Reconciliation," she allowed, "might be a high bar. After all, we're very different vixens, and even if we understood each other perfectly, I'm uncertain that we would find each other more agreeable for it. But," she suggested, pushing one of the glasses across the table toward Tanya, "perhaps we can manage sisterhood instead, whatever that means." She took a sip of the wine to prove it wasn't poisoned before addressing her sister's flippant questions.

"I actually understand that you've met my husband - even did some work for him, if I understand correctly. I'm slightly miffed that I had to find out after the fact from my spies in his household, but such are the costs of separation." She sighed a bit forlornly before adding, "How are little Valdrisk and Aille? Not so little now, I would presume. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if they had a few little ones of their own scampering about now. It's certainly amusing to imagine you as a grandmother, I must say."