❪ event: pt 2. ❫

[nysan]

Who: Empress Simwe & King Shanrian (nysan)
What: Olympia - Wyver negotiations
When: Mid-October
Where: Wyver capital, throne room.
Warning(s): Thoughts of violence and sexual acts, suggestive language.

[ Two weeks ago, a group led by S-8 carried out an act of terrorism in the walled city of Olympia. The biological attack only affected a handful of innocent people, but the illness nevertheless quickly became an epidemic, turning the city into a state of panic and chaos.

A few days prior, Empress Simwe journeyed to Wyver's capital. A personal invitation from the King himself. Those that rule would know that their land is always at risk of terrorism. Simwe has known this from the day she wore Olympia's crown. There are many who would rather see Olympia burn than to call her Empress. That is why Shanrian's warnings fell upon deaf ears, figuring it was his own incompetence that Wyver was attacked by the same group.

She stood before the throne room of the humid Wyver castle, unfazed by the suffocating air as she was escorted to the throne that sat besides Shanrian's. That was when news of the Olympia attack reached her. An empress shant crumble before the eyes of a King. She bit the inside of her cheeks, knowing know that it wasn't Wyver that needed Olympia's help. As the days went by, she knew that it would be Olympia that needed allies more than ever. ]

Comments

[nysan]

[ My, how the tables have turned. To say that these past few weeks have been stressful for the king of Wyver would be an understatement. An attack on Wyver of a biological nature has left his people ill and growing moreso by the day. Now, not only has he received good news, but wonderful news. That wretched city had been dealt the same blow his own people had, and it was enough for the Empress to wake up and put her personal biases aside.

Normally, he was not a man who wished to inflict needless suffering on people, not even the soft and vapid souls that resided in Olympia, but he can't deny that it's been a longtime wish of his to witness Empress Simwe begging.

This isn't quite the display he had in mind, because even in a time of need, Empress Simwe had nothing if not her regal pride. It would be admirable, if Shanrian hadn't spent many of his days wondering if the sound of her bones crunching would be refined and delicate, too.

He stays seated where he is on the throne. Now that he has the upper hand, he feels little need to go through courtesies at the moment. Yes, they need Olympia. They need Olympia desperately, if his people are to survive this plague.

But Olympia needs Wyver more, it seems. ]

Hello, Simwe. [ He smiles, but there's no warmth to it. It's hard to smile at a woman he considers vile, a woman responsible for giving the orders of killing so many of his beloved people. Even he would be tempted to slip into doing a dishonorable thing and having Rasyc find a way to kill her from the shadows. Doing so, however, would jeopardize the health of his people. ] Are we ready to finalize the agreement? I hear something new's happened since the last time we talked. A new... trouble?

What's this I hear about a food shortage?

[nysan]

[ Normally it would be Ashti's strangely gentle hands that help seat her on the throne; today, the sweaty palms of a Wyver boy attempts to do that which her Guard could not. Simwe withdraws her hand to the golden silk of her skirt and lowers herself gracefully upon the cheap throne alone.

The King's greeting is far too casual for her to respond immediately. She fixates on keeping her posture as perfect as the throne would allow her. Unfortunately, she's unable to feel as relaxed as she would have liked without the advantage she had just days prior. Shanrian intends to draw an unfavorable reaction out of her; she sees it in the coolness of his smile, but does a man who wears a wool coat under the heat of his scorched land have any natural warmth about him to begin with? ]

Shanrian. That is Empress Simwe to you. [ She sports a small, wry smile as she searches her surroundings. ] All these lovely boys at your disposal, and not one has offered the Empress a cup of tea. You've become frugal with age.

Perhaps you would take care not to sound so... thrilled by this mutual problem of ours. [ She settles her back against the seat, kicking one leg over the other. ] We shall discuss an agreement, but only after I am offered tea.

[nysan]

[ Shanrian wishes he could afford to be petty, to refuse to yield to her requests, however small they may be. But the longer they sit here arguing over things that didn't matter, the sicker the Wyver people got. He looks towards one of the servants and nods, confirming that he should take action. ]

Go on, get the woman a cup of tea. Her throat must be real dry. [ The woman, not the Empress. ] That's surprising, Simwe. Are you also inflicted with the disease? Last I knew, your throat was just fine. You're known for your skills in that area, even.

[ Soon, the serving boy returns. This time, Shanrian bows his head with a semblance of politeness. ]

A tea for Her Majesty, made from the finest of the Oshai Leaf. [ An insult, to give the very key to the cure for Olympia in the form of an innocuous drink. ] Should we get started now?

[nysan]

[ Rather than sounding indignant, she smiles coyly; she uncrosses her legs, then deliberately reverses them, making certain Shanrian gets a clear view of the bareness of her legs through the split of the silk skirt. He isn't wrong that the Empress is known for her trysts within the palace. And if it weren't for the disdain she harbors for this man, perhaps he wouldn't be so safe from her advances as well. Perhaps that's for the best.

Even so, she presses a finger against her bottom lip as she speaks to him, her smile turning wicked. ]

You would know if this is working just fine, wouldn't you, King Shanrian?

[ That should be enough to start weeks of rumors. It doesn't bother Simwe, but she hopes it'll cause some headaches for the Wyver leader. ]

You tease me. [ Simwe inhales the aroma before she brings the cup to her lips. Despite asking for tea, she can't in good conscience take a sip from it; there's guilt there somewhere. She sets the cup on the plate offered to her. ] If you know what I'm here for, then must we waste our breaths? I have what you want, and you have what I want. What else is there to it, Shanrian?

[nysan]

[ She mocks him, even now. It's warranted, given the treatment he's giving her, but her forwardness is enough for his smile to fade. His people hopefully know of his virtue, that he'd never collude with such a corrupt person, but he knows the nature of mankind too well. They will talk. It takes some willpower to keep his temper at bay, but he does so for the good of the diseased in his land. ]

Yes, let's not waste any of your or my subjects' time anymore. The agreement was, at least at first, that we would share our stock of Oshai Leaf for an equal amount of the Yuwi Flower. It was simple. [ And equal. Not a trade in which Wyver would be losing valuable resources. Her new terms, however... ]

Why are you asking us for food, too?

[nysan]

[ There are quiet whispers echoing throughout the throne room, no doubt speaking about the comment she just made. She offers him a satisfactory smirk, eyes bore on his discontent ones. ]

It should be simple, but this predicament is obviously not a simple one. We've completely exhausted our food supply. There were minimal attempts made to salvage what we had left, as many were fixated on finding the culprits. Surely you understand?

[nysan]

[ He does understand, but that doesn't make him anymore sympathetic. Not when their own resources were limited. ]

The disease has left many of our hunter-gatherers, as well as our farmers, bedridden. We have enough to feed ourselves through the winter, but why should I be charitable to you for nothing in return? Surely you understand?

[nysan]

And without our Yuwi Flowers, your people will remain bedridden. You are lacking in manpower now, are you not? The surge in population, however temporary, will be beneficial to your economy, no matter how you look at it.

Petty grudges aside, you must find some attraction in our help. [ She extends a hand, an offering of sorts. ] King Shanrian, this is our only option for the time being. It pains me to admit it as well, but I am willing to overlook our differences in the interest of our respective countries.

[nysan]

[ He doesn't take her hand just yet, staying put with his arms crossed. ]

The culprits. Did you manage to capture any of them?

[nysan]

[ Her hand still hangs in place, certain that she's got him. ]

Some unfortunately succumbed to an early death. There are several more that are now awaiting their fates.

[ Simwe pauses, observing him. Shanrian may appear a man, but he still has the blood of dragons in his veins. She smiles lightly. ]

Your people suffered for their actions as well, did they not? Perhaps you would be interested in taking them off our hands and... punish them, however you like.

[nysan]

[ At the mere mention of handing over a number of the culprits, the people around Shanrian can't hold back their interested and enthusiastic looks. They may not have as many rules and regulations as Olympia does, but they are still a justice seeking people.

It would seem, that no matter what Shanrian believes is best, the people have already spoken for him.

He sighs a little, finally giving her the hint of a smile again. He can hardly believe that he's really considering this, after all of the pain and suffering they've endured because of this devil woman. ]

Give us your prisoners. All of your prisoners, and we'll call it equal. We will house and feed your people, at least until we can figure out a cure, if you hand them over and don't ask any questions.

[ He offers his hand now, though doesn't quite make the contact yet. Not when she hasn't agreed yet. ] Still wanna shake on it, little girl?

[nysan]

[ She doesn't need to ask questions to know what will become of the prisoners. The Wyver are a savage bunch, and despite their current incarnation, they are still the natural enemies of the human species. And those dragons, they love the taste of human flesh. ]

No questions asked.

[ Her confirmation comes shortly after he offers his hand; Simwe can feel the coolness of his skin, finds it interesting that he keeps them untouched by the same wool the covers the rest of his body. Even so, she slides her fingertips over the coarse palm of his hand, almost sighing when the cold hits her. The hair on her bare arms stand— truly, a reminder than he is not a man, but a monster.

Unfazed by his quip, she leans forward. ]

Consider us allies here on out, daddy.

[nysan]

[ He scarcely has time to reply to that quip, too caught off-guard by how sudden it is, and how taking ahold of her palm is almost too hot to the touch. She is warm, unlike himself, and his eyes involuntarily flicker from their usual gray to bright amber gold.

It is instinct for him to seek out more of this warmth, instinct making it so that can never tell if he wants to make love to her, rip out her entrails, or a combination of both.

Instead, the handshake lingers no more than necessary, and he withdraws his hand and stands. ]

Allies? I highly doubt it. But we have a truce for now, Empress Simwe. [ For the first time, he addresses her by her proper title. ]

We will open the gates to the Olympian people. Tell those who have been working on a cure to meet with my shamans at once.

[ He then nods many of the men and women gathered around him, and they immediately understand. They will be there to ensure that the prisoners are handed off properly. ]

[nysan]

[ Her gaze meets the temporary amber of his. Simwe shifts in her seat, suddenly desiring to seek the fires of his eyes, but he lets go of her hand too quickly after she decides this. This man has no charm about him whatsoever.

With a sigh, she unfolds her legs and stands with him, speaking before the Olympians, as well as the Wyver people, who gathered before the two leaders. ]

The Olympian people shall remain in Wyver until our great city is safe for occupation. Do show our hosts some gratitude. This King is suffering in numbers.