Mythico Carnival

Azrael raised an eyebrow at the girl, she still did not know the name of the girl so she would remain to be known as just the girl to her. It wasn't in the social graces of a Royal to have to ask for ones introduction. It was simply expected for the person to give the name freely. The girl how ever did give her an odd look when she heard the punishment that was due for these criminals, and then asked why they just couldn't hang them. At this her cold amber gaze slowly glided to lock on to the two criminals being restrained. Who knew their fate was sealed and had stopped struggling.

"We use to hang them...however I pushed for that law to be amended in my sixteenth year of life."

Her gaze traveled back to The Girl.

"Death is a release to be respected, to those of us who live long into the centuries ahead it is a privilege to be released from the mortal aches and woes that life may bring upon us. I can think of no better punishment then to make those who strive to take away what makes life worth living then to force them into the very shackles they deemed fit to put on others. May they learn to repent in there ways by the suffering that will fallow, and perhaps if they are fortunes enough to taste freedom once more they mayhap appreciate it that much more."

Azrael paused.

"I suppose an easier way to explain it; I prefer to see the punishment fit the crime. Unfortunately our legal system in many ways is not quite yet up to par with my philosophy but on this one subject the elders saw fit to concede to my wishes."

Azrael nodded when The Girl gave them the go ahead to put forth and investigation.

"Very well, guards take them to the dungeon and commence the standard procedures for investigation. I want to know who their working for, where they take their bounty ect. Find out anything and everything on their operation along with why they targeted The Girl."

The guards nodded having unburied the two men from the rubble, whether they were dead or not remained to be seen but they certainly did not look up to par. The guards saluted the princess and then went to fallow her orders. Azrael watched them go, when they left she turned her attention back to The Girl. She was slightly amused by The Girls joke about the only person she pissed off today was her, however the amused could not be told by her facial expressions. She motioned for the girl to fallow her as she continued on the path she had been on before she had come back to help The Girl.


"As skilled as I am I do not think I would have the time or resources to gather five men to capture a girl I had only just run into moments before hand. So I think we can safely rule me out...but I am most certain there have been other times in which it was not only me that your tongue has lashed out against.."

Felicity shakes her head, “I didn’t really think a public hanging was a respectable kind of death. Also, doesn’t that just leave that institution in place? I mean, it doesn’t really abolish anything.” She looks back at the men, “Well, there’s not much I can really do about that.” She wasn’t sure even wanted money earned from selling another person in servitude, and that was saying a lot.

“Felicity, your grace,” she interjects when being called The Girl. “But you know, The Girl sounds kind of important when you say it like that. I could accept that as a name.”

Felicity laughs when Azrael talks about rounding up a bunch of slavers, “Well, I doubted it would be you. It would sort of make the coming to my aid part a little weird, wouldn’t it? But I don’t deal with people who run around with slavers. That’s not the kind of company or business I keep. So I can’t say I know anyone off the top of my head with those kinds of connections among the people I’ve pissed off or burnt bridges between.” The latter was a long list too. There were definitely a good number of people that she shouldn’t ever run into again. However, the slavery thing was a big deal in her book, so most of her past associates and acquaintances didn’t run in those networks.

She shrugs a little, “So I really haven’t a clue who is after me or why they are after me, your grace. Honestly, I’m kind of flattered someone would think I’m worth the money and trouble…”

These festivals usually weren't too interesting. Nobles paraded by, he'd try to duck his head whenever someone older than him went by, it was a cycle he never really cared for but attended because it was a good source of information. Usually guards weren't called away from the parade route, and he'd kept an eye on the street, waiting to see what was happened, and he was rewarded with men being led away in various states of wounded. There were voices that came from the street, too, ones he could barely hear and he decided that he'd had enough of this parade. He abandoned his spot, looking around before going into the street, and he had just enough common sense not to just barge in on whatever conversation was being had.

"Honestly, I’m kind of flattered someone would think I’m worth the money and trouble…"

Octavian would not call it that, nor would be advocate such feelings, and he was torn between revealing himself and staying put. He'd had lingering thoughts that the heiress would be back here -- after all, no one called palace guards from their posts unless they were members of the royal family -- but he didn't expect the heiress to have company... especially company that, apparently, didn't know what a threat against her life was. Finally he decided that he might as well reveal himself before he was seen and assumed to be a common thief. 

He swam from his spot, crossing his arms to make it apparent he wouldn't go to his blades, and to give himself some sense of propriety in front of the heiress, since his armor didn't do too good a job of it. The bow he gave to her wasn't proper at all, but at least it was some form of acknowledgement, and he hoped that it wouldn't give away that he was well bred. His eyes lingered on her just a moment, more out of surprise that such a slip of a girl was to take the throne eventually, before moving to rest on the Caecilian woman, and finding that he really wasn't surprised.

"I apologize for barging in on this discussion," he stated, and he almost winced from how he sounded, "but they do not think you are worth the money and trouble. More than likely they want something you know and are likely to kill you once they get it." He shrugged a shoulder, very much not exactly caring even if he was offering the information. "And if whoever it is has already spent money on trying to acquire you; I do not think they are going to care their first attempt failed."

"Death is still an end, however they felt on the matter of their death would be over as soon as the deed was done. I do not see the point in public humiliation if you're not around to reap the humility it sews...."

Azrael kept her opinions to herself when it came to abolishing the system though; while it was true that their practice would not end the slave trade it did place some form of control over it. But the matter of seeking to control the slave market usually repulsed people; and frankly she judged this woman would be one of those people. Her eyebrow rose when The Girl, ended up liking the way she had been referring to her. But at least she gave herself a name to be called by. Felicity continued on her speech proclaiming she did not keep business with the sort of people who were slavers.

"I don't suppose respectable person would, however that's not the sort of business folk would flaunt about."

A new voice paused Azrael in her journey out o the city once more; by this point she was coming to the solemn resignation that she would not be able to swim freely this afternoon. She turned to face the man, her chin held high and the bottom of her glaive resting firmly on the ocean floor. She eyed the man up and down and acknowledged his bow with a nod of her head. He was native here; or at least he knew something of the customs. As he voiced his opinion on the whole matter he did brush upon a good point. Her amber gaze slide back to Felicity.

"The Boy makes a valid point, this incident is likely to repeat itself. If luck is with you the lack of your ability with Caeru will not travel back to the one who arranged this...if that truly is the case. However.."

Azrael turned her cold gaze back to the blue haired man; blue certainly seemed to be the theme today. Blue blue blue blue blue, his hair was blue; the girls hair was blue, fishy appendages ...all blue. Well they certainly would have the advantage in the wide open...with so much blue they may practically disappear. She did wonder why he felt the need to join in their conversation, being how messy the subject matter was.

"Humor me; why the interest in our conversation?"

Perhaps, Felicity and Azrael were speaking too loudly as someone new enters their conversation. “Well, if you were listening in, then I guess speaking your opinion is better than simply remaining quiet. Don’t worry about apologizing as you can’t really help what you end up hearing sometimes.”

She offers a shrug, “Well, death would be better than slavery. While it does less for my ego, I guess information would make more sense than wanting me personally.” Raking her brain, she remembers some of her previous deliveries being somewhat valuable. If they wanted the location of where one of those went, it would make some amount of sense to try to capture her. “I suppose I could think of a few things that they may wish to know. However, I doubt those detained men really have any answers if that is the case.”

Felicity’s hand covers her own face when Azrael mentions her Caeru ability. “Please don’t announce that the whole world, your grace. I’ve tried not to broadcast that too much, but in a 5 on one fight, I didn’t have any other option but to use it. And lack of ability? I’ll admit I am not amazing, but I don’t think I was that bad, your grace. Also, The Boy doesn’t really need to know all that information. What is your name anyways or do you prefer The Boy?” She didn’t really want to call him ‘The Boy’ this entire time even though Azrael seemed perfectly content to do that.

"'The boy'," he parroted, raising an eyebrow and sounded decidedly unamused. "You do realize, Your Highness, that I am older than you." Of course his first issue, and priority, would be in not only proving her wrong, but in defending his own pride as well. Typical, really. "But you may call me Octavian." Considering he was a mercenary, he doubted they'd even see him after this meeting. Or want to associate with him. But if it settled the ladies down for the moment, it was good enough for him. More than good enough, really, because he could very happily survive without a royal thorn in the side in his life.

He gave the heiress a look, uncrossing an arm slightly to rub at his jawline. "What's not to be interested in about this conversation. Caeru abilities, the heir to the throne's personal involvement... with a few added details this might just be a good enough tale to tell at some tavern somewhere." There was more than a little mocking in his tone, for those who knew to look for it, even if he was being just a little bit sincere; he was curious, especially about whatever this was that warranted the involvement of the heiress herself, and especially on a festival day.

But he simply shrugged, this one far more theatrical and it was obvious he was trying to get a reaction here. "Well, I might as well go back to my mercenary ridden haunts. No sense in thinking any of them might know anything about this whole... event."

Azrael just gave him a look that said 'If you didn't want to be called the boy then you should have introduced yourself properly'. She nodded in acceptance of his name; she had to wonder if introductions were on the lower end of the social priorities among commoners.

"Very well, Octavian; however I fail to see whether or not you are older than I me has anything to do with it."

Azrael looked at Felicity when she proclaimed she wasn't that bad with her abilities, Azrael looked at the rubble that was formed when the girl had used her abilities back to The Girl...

"So you meant to possibly kill two men and the possibility of yourself if I had not pulled you away from the rubble....There is a reason why we force our children into schools when the present the ability to use such a gift. They are a danger to others and themselves if not taught now to properly use such a skill....As for my involvement Octavian it is nothing more than by chance...I cannot in good conscious turn a deaf ear on a citizen distressed in my kingdom. Much less one that was not even two shakes of a tail away. As long as it is within my ability I strive to protect the people whom are underneath my care."

Of course there was the added reason that she out of anyone enjoyed a good scuffle, a princess was rarely provided the opportunity to really bash someone's head in. It was such a nice emotional outlet. It would also seem that the opportunity would likely present itself again if she kept The Girl close at hand. When Octavian maid a theatrical display, Azrael assumed that was his offer his involvement in this whole mystery.

"Very well let us go, lead the way to your haunts and we'll see what information we can dig up."

Right now she would take any excuse not to have to go back to the castle. Although she probably should ditch the Royal garb....

Felicity sighs at the question about the rubble falling and the deaths caused, “Well… no. I might have come out of it fine though. Besides, not all of us have the benefit of being taught in everything, your grace. The rest of us have to get by with a bit more trial and error.” It didn’t help that she didn’t develop those abilities at the traditional time when they look for it, but much later in life. And at that point, the idea of sitting around a teacher with a bunch of small children wasn’t very attractive.

Nodding when Octavian says this was an interesting conversation, she adds, “He’s right. You’re a noteworthy person in an odd situation with an unorthodox company. Yeah, I’d be interested too.”

She didn’t think Octavian was inviting them with him, but the princess seemed to be demanding to go. Raising an eyebrow at the princess, Felicity asks, “You want to go to a tavern? I’m fine with this plan, but you are… a little out of place for that scene.”

That was not what he was expecting. He was expecting her to just send him there to return later with information, not her wanting to get involved with the lowlives of her realm. It threw him for enough of a loop that his jaw slackened slightly, his eyes widening in an unchecked look of surprise, before he realized that he was making such an expression and quickly rearranged his face into something a little bit more neutral. Even if there was still a bit of his disbelief lingering in his expression.

"Your Highness, I sincerely doubt this is a good idea," he stated, but he knew there was nothing he could possibly do to dissuade her except drop his birth name -- because something told him that she wouldn't want to be associated with him them -- and he wasn't going to do that. His next exhale had some of his frustration in it, as did the lash of his tail. "But, if you wish to do this, there would be some rules."

There was no way to stop her, no, but he wasn't going to be stupid. She was the heiress. Even if he wasn't exactly hired to protect her, nor had any incentive to do so, there was just a little bit of proper citizen in him to understand that she needed to be kept safe.

He looked over both of them with an impassive eye. "You'd have to listen to me. And I mean it, Your Highness. There would probably be people there who would think holding the heiress ransom would be easy wealth." His gaze stopped on Azrael's face, lingering and harsh, before moving on to Felicity. "And you'd both want to acquire some armor, at the least. If you can fight with anything but that glaive, Your Highness, it'd be a good idea to switch. The glaive is just a little bit distinctive."

"At the very least you should have gotten training for the use Caeru...We understand the risks of such ability and encourage that each individual should receive instruction regardless of social class or standing. I lack the knowledge of where you hail from but surely you would have had access to a teacher somewhere or at some time."

A hint of emotion crossed her stony face; if anything scared her it was someone with the lack of knowledge on how to control their own abilities. But the emotion was gone as quick as it had appeared; the mask of indifference placed back upon her features. When they both decided the interest of the whole situation was added on to simply due to her involvement, she couldn't help but let out a sigh. If she were a boy and was the crowned heir then patrolling the streets wouldn't be such an odd event. A prince was expected to patrol his kingdoms streets; a princess well she was expected to sit there and look pretty. Like her uncle, he had been out and about regularly if she remembered the stories right.

When they both didn't turn to fallow her she turned to face them, the look of shock on the boys face was amusing. It almost, just almost made her lips twitch into a smile. Was it really that shocking she wanted to get involved? Plots, thugs, fighting; much more interesting than an afternoon of tea parties, why wouldn't she be involved. It gave her a chance to get her hands dirty; an act she favored more than her sisters.

Fortunate for her they both seemed to not want to argue with her on the matter of going, despite the obvious flaws in the plan of her joining them. When Octavian stated that there would be rules if she joined them she inclined her head in acknowledgment.

"I concede to fallow your superior knowledge in these matters."

When he mentioned that she should find something other then the glaive to fight with she sighed, her eyes gazing up at her Uncles weapon. He had a point it was a bit too well known, it was already controversial of it being passed down to her in the first place. But she loathed to be apart from it, it was like extension of herself. To be apart from it made her feel naked....however was not lacking in the skill to use another weapon. She just favored her glaive.

"I am proficient in the use of daggers...We will stop by the royal armory; we can outfit ourselves there."
Her personal armor happened to be located there anyways. With that she lead the way; taking the back streets that skirted around the parade. She knew the back ways quite well due to her frequent outings. Azrael approached the back door where two guards where standing post. They looked surprised to see her. They immediately dropped into a low bow and admitted her, and her odd guest's entrance. Only looking up momentarily to give a questioning stare to the princesses' new companions. The armory was a simply one, an off shoot from the castle. It was a tunnel that lead down into the sea floor. The walls were stacked stone, bare and windowless. The area was lit by odd glowing shells that gave off enough light to see everything clearly. The hallway they swam branched off into a couple of rooms, one for armor, the other for weapons, along with one fitted to make repairs.

"Feel free to pick what you would like, consider it on loan."

If they were going to be stuck with her they might as well be outfitted by her. Azrael went into the weapon room and immediately went to a locked safe. The safe was larger than she was and held the royal seal on the door. She opened up the safe and placed her beloved glaive inside. She gladly removed the ringlet from her head, and the amethyst drops from her ears. She also removed her amulet, gold bangles, and any other jewelry she had on herself. She was glad to be rid of them, such finery usually tended to snag on things...they were pretty but a burden. That and in a fight one did not want anything loose and dangly near there neck. It was a liability. She also removed the long transparent wrap that she had around her body, leaving just the white sea shells. The purple stripes on her form were prominent against the pale white of her skin. Once all finery was removed and placed in the save she took out her practice armor. It consisted of a dark rich leather cuirass, the middle in a corset like fashion which laced up the front. Covered by thick leather pauldrons that covered her shoulders a chest. The armor was well used, and had a worn vine pattern throughout. She next outfitted herself with a pair of leather swordsmen vambraces, when she was finished all but the stripes on her face were fully covered. She then pulled out a leather belt that was outfitted with nine small throwing daggers, plus two larger daggers. She placed it around her waist, then closed the vault before turning to the others; mainly to Octavian.

"Will this satisfy your demands for armor?"

She crossed her arms across her chest, if it had not been for her silver hair and distinctive stripes on her face you would not first guess for her to be the crowned princess.

Felicity finds it a little odd to see such a scared expression on Azrael. “Well, I haven’t died in the past few years, so I don’t think I will spontaneously explode and unleash untold destruction, your grace,” she smiles, somewhat reassuringly. “I’ll keep the use of it to a minimum in your presence. Hopefully, that means never again.”

Octavian puts a bunch of stipulations on allowing the princess to follow as well he should. With a crooked smile, she looks toward the princess, “Really? You’re not going to question a single order?” She looks away, “Well, at least I still get to see the city despite that random attack.”

As they make their way to the armory, Felicity realizes if she took the time to recap the day that it seemed more like a strange dream. Met a princess. Managed to escape a capture attempt. Then travelled with a princess to a seedy tavern. Perhaps, Mythicos really was the place with everything to offer.

“So we can wear anything so long as we return it…” Felicity trails off, looking at what the place has to offer. Like the princess, she goes with lighter armor. She had never worn heavy armor before, so attempting to do so now seemed ridiculous. After securing the armor, she starts to go over the weapons for a sword. She had gotten so used to the single-edged blades over the years. Eventually, her eyes settle on a sabre, close enough to the cutlass that she normally used, but in much better condition.

Rejoining the group, it occurs to her that she should stop saying ‘your grace’.

“Alright, so what would be the appropriate address now, your grace?” she asks, jokingly.