Tagged : Viess | Words : 613 | Notes : It's a shame this never had a chance to go far. D:

The man at the counter of the Sleeping Giant Inn looked up from his conversation long enough to take Cole in for a few seconds, before he shifted his elbows out from in front of the group of Nords he spoke to and in front of the speaker. ”Evenin’, Breton. What can I get you?” Unfolding the piece of parchment in his hands, Cole shook his head and peered down at it to read the name written down for him by Elmira. ”I don’t need anything, but I was wondering if a Veissalyn Wintervoss came in and asked for Coulson.” After a few seconds of pondering and muttering the names to himself, the man shrugged. ”Can’t help you there. Don’t think I’ve had anyone by that name, and I’d remember it.” Well, Cole definitely couldn’t argue with that fact. Obviously, being a Breton himself, he was used to Breton names (meaning Veissalyn was Breton) and it rolled off of his tongue easily. The Nords, with their harsh names, stumbled all over the smooth syllables of Breton names at times. He pushed the note across the bar to the man. ”If she does come in, send her my way.” The barman agreed to, and Cole, feeling as if he was loitering if he didn’t buy a drink, asked for a mead before pulling away and making his way to an isolated seat on the side of the hearth, facing the door. Elmira had provided him with the general appearance of the fellow Breton he was to meet here in Riverwood, so chances were that Cole would recognize her right when she walked in. There was no surplus of Bretons in this little mill town, after all.

Cole took a burning sip of his mead. He was taking a lot of what Elmira had convinced him of during their encounter for granted by simply being in Riverwood. Her facts were arranged nicely, at least, and as a student of history Cole had spent his couple of days in Solitude before receiving her note in looking up information on the Blades. He, however, saw no reason for her to believe that the Blades existed anymore. She’d be given a few points for pursuing them, though…and for getting Cole, and apparently this Veissalyn character, to join her in the pursuit. His face fell into his hands long enough for him to wipe his disbelief at himself from out of his eyes. Taking the word of a woman who shows up in camps to ask for food for no particular reason and ending up in the middle of Skyrim to meet a strange woman from Windhelm – Cole being the type of man he was, flowing freely from place to place, it wasn’t an absurdity that he would make the trip to Riverwood out of pure curiosity. Curiosity, after all, was what had gotten him into proximity of the only elder scroll that he’d ever seen in his life…and while that incident had gone horribly awry, he didn’t regret it. What stood in absurdity was the fact that Cole trusted the fact that Elmira and the woman from Windhelm had his best interests in mind. Well…Cole couldn’t quite be considered “trusting” yet, but he didn’t exactly have his crossbow in his lap ready to fire in case Veissalyn opened the door only to spout a fireball at his face.

…With an inn-full of people, such an action dwelt within the realm of the highly unlikely, but Cole could sit and wonder over his mead, staring at the door every time it opened and a random Nord or elf would come in. No female Breton as of yet.

0685 WORDS FOR KENT veissa took an arrow to the butt thigh. elysian

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,450,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: #6d6d6d;] she was a woman of inconsistency and indecisiveness - she knew this, as shameful as it is. she would buy something impulsively, and immediately regret it; she would make a promise, or accept an invitation, just to let nervous nausea overtake her. she knew well the feeling of abysmal remorse, but the gnawing guilt hurt much less than the earth-shattering anxiety. this, though - this wasn't some formal party, or friendly get together. to turn her back on this would be foolish - an opportunity to study one of the most elusive, yet legendary groups (she chose to ignore the fact that she'd been all but threatened into it - her heartstrings pulled and manipulated, no matter how kindly, to trick her into thinking she needed to do this to repent) wasn't something that came along often. but this - this was a bit much, and she wanted to turn tail and run. she hadn't even stepped foot in the town. instead she was still mounting agro, pacing just outside the entranceway. mika had long since collapsed to the ground to nap, leaving his master to gather stares from the village passersby. riverwood was, perhaps, one of her favorite towns - quieter and significantly less crowded than the cities, and much easier to navigate. it was out of the ordinary though, not someplace she visited often, and unmistakably, overwhelmingly wrong; the longer she put off this wretched event, the more nervous she became, because she was attracting so much attention, and that guard wouldn't stop staring at her - and then he was coming closer, face hidden by his helm and body moving cautiously. her hands spasmed on the reigns, shoulders curving inward and her hair falling to shield her face; she took a deep breath (a vain attempt to calm her nerves, breathing techniques never worked) before sliding off the mare to stand before the man. "problem, stranger?" she flinched. stupid. "no. i... have news for a man here, at the inn. won't be a pleasant affair." there - not completely honest, but perfectly true, and it did the job because he simply nodded and stepped back. she gave him a small, hesitant smile - fake and practiced, it felt unnatural on her face - and hurried past, her head dipped to avoid the curious faces of the townsfolk; her heart was hammering as it was and she felt too out of place, particularly so when she tripped over the steps to the inn (and apologized with a gasp, her face burning with mortification, but there was no one there, just her and those blasted strangers staring). it was a relief when she finally entered the building. the relief was short lived. she was absolutely assaulted by the atmosphere of the place - choking on fear and the sheer absurdity of it all. she was dizzy, a warmth pooling into her brain, and she cast her eyes about the crowd for someone - anyone - who matched the description elmira gave - but everyone looked frighteningly alike, except the barman who had looked up when she'd opened the door. she weaved and flinched her way towards him, reached out and grabbed the edge of the counter like a lifeline. "i'm looking for a, um, a man - breton. coulson. has he...?" she cut herself short, turning to look where the nord pointed. "ah. thank you." she didn't want to leave the counter. it was study and solid, and felt comfortably safe - stable, grounding. but she had to meet this man - he'd surely seen her, and she'd come so far - so she forcibly pushed herself away, legs stiff and leaden as she weaved her way to the other (a complete stranger, this was ludicrous), hands shaking and twisting and flitting before her like tiny little birds, and she must've looked a wreck as she sunk down to sit beside him with her shoulders hunched. "coulson pike? i - i'm veissalyn wintervoss. elmira sent me."

TABLE BY CALIFORNIA DREAMING @ CAUTION 2.0

Tagged : Viess | Words : 509 | Notes : It's a shame this never had a chance to go far. D:

Another shift of the doorway and blast of chilly air caught Cole in the middle of a long swig of his drink, and his attempt to search around the edge of the mug for the new arrival almost had him spilling part of the bittersweet brew. His eyes found her, and he spilled some out of the side and onto the floor anyway. That young woman striding in and taking the time to stake out the room – probably to find Cole – was definitely Breton. Her features matched up with Elmira’s description, too. The other woman had neglected to mention that this Veissalyn lady was also…wow, not bad looking at all. Cole completely forgot to wave her over, since he was perfectly content to look at her. He only realized his error once she’d turned away and seemed to be heading for the bartender. Whoops. Well, the bartender could direct her to the right place, at least. It gave Cole a space of time to finish that ill-ended swig of his mead and ask himself the really important questions that no longer had to do with his possible insanity for going along with Elmira’s little planned meeting with Veissalyn. Were good looks some sort of unspoken requirement for this new group of Blades Elmira was putting together? If so, Cole might have been gladder that he’d agreed to help the blond.

Cole trained his eyes on the Breton woman and the barman as he was pointed out, nodding to the two of them. He took a breath to prepare himself for conversation as Veissalyn walked over to him, though after the whole weirdness with the Elder Scroll, having a conversation with some apparently important young woman from Windhelm wouldn’t be much of a problem for him, especially not when she was pleasant to look at. She, however, did not look all that comfortable as she stepped over and Cole scooted a little to make room for her to sit down. As she did so, Cole stole a glance around the place to make sure no one had become too interested in them – something he’d learned to do for his own paranoid reasons – before turning a light smile on her face to try to ease her mind a little bit, if it could be done. Then again, he could be reading her totally wrong and this was how she reacted to everyone. She wouldn’t be the first, considering how oddly Elmira acted at fir- well, actually, considering how oddly Elmira still acted sometimes.

”Right,” Cole replied, as a simple way to start. ”And you weren’t even late. That’s a pretty good start.” That was probably the worst attempt at breaking the ice that anyone would ever hear, but Cole felt he could be credited with the attempt anyway. Cole diverted his eyes back to his own cup for a few moments. ”Elmira dropped me a few hints in her letter, but what is it that you do exactly? Something important in Windhelm?”

Gods, he hoped she wasn’t some crazy dedicated Stormcloak.

0685 WORDS FOR KENT veissa took an arrow to the butt thigh. outfit - cloth elysian

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,450,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: #6d6d6d;] She gave a choked laugh at his attempt to break the (thoroughly solid, six feet deep) ice and his light smile, and she could see his bright eyes flicker away to his own cup once more, and suddenly the whole meeting wasn't quite so bad, because he was obviously just as nervous and awkward as she was. "Yes. I'm ah, a thane there. Relatively new one, really, and completely by accident, but still a thane. And you are a... vagabond mage, correct?" She straightened her tense shoulders, turning to face him (eye contact was still a big no, but she'd already gotten so much better at socializing since she'd been forced into the limelight via title) and giving him a small, unsure smile of her own. Her fingers ached, tremblings and rubbing against each other, already missing the comforting fluff of fur that was normally at her feet. Damn taverns and their 'no pets allowed' rules. "She was rather ah, vague about this whole meeting; to be honest, I'm not even sure what she thinks I can really accomplish, but I'm happy to try," she continued, her voice trembling like a child's, breathless and halting. She felt like she was five again, hiding in the wardrobe with her cousin, eavesdropping on confusing 'official grownup business'. But now she was an adult, fully-grown and conducting her own business, and she had absolutely no idea of what to do. She needed structure and direction, not freedom to do as she pleased (or displeased as the case may be. Elmira wasn't a bad person, but this was all so frightening and new). She passed a hand over her eye - the blue one, the one that always burned when she cried or stared into intense lights, that ached with some invisible injury. She curled her fingers over it, pressing the soft pads into the lightly bruised skin just below it. The itching ache always got worse the more stressed she became. The inn was full of people making happy conversation - and there they were, fidgeting and tripping over themselves, trying to piece together an order that had long since vanished. "This is insane. What are we even doing?"

TABLE BY CALIFORNIA DREAMING @ CAUTION 2.0

Tagged : Viess | Words : 437 | Notes : Bleh, kind of an uneven post, sorry. D:

Cole could feel his eyebrows rise as he turned his head back to Veissalyn. Being a thane of a city happened to be a pretty impressive feat for anyone of any age, and as he took in the Breton’s features again and noted that she didn’t appear to be…very old (especially not much older than Cole himself), he produced a curled lip to indicate how impressed he was. She was a Breton…thane…of a city that was ruled by potential High King Racist himself. Cole was suddenly intimidated, and it showed when she asked him about what he’d chosen to do with his life – he cleared his throat and shrugged his shoulders rather awkwardly as if the question had taken him off his guard. Heh heh, yeah, his life stood up so well in comparison to a thane’s. ”That I am,” Cole answered, after a short debate with himself as to whether or not he should make his wanderings seem more…grand. Yes, a life of hiring himself out to scrape close to potential death seemed so grand. ”Doesn’t quite stand up to being a thane, but…” But what? But nothing. Cole hid his inability to continue his sentence in a long swig from his drink, his eyes staring at the table and noting his companion still acting uncomfortably in his peripheral.

Fortunately, she had more to say to save Cole from his uneventful trail-off. He tapped fingers on his glass as he listened to her, nodding his understanding. ”I don’t think Elmira knows what she can accomplish yet, either,” Cole told her, thoughtfully. ”And if she does know, she surely hasn’t graced me with the knowledge.” Because we met in a thieves camp to the tune of her spouting out hints about the Blades to me, Cole did not feel compelled to add, considering it made him sound like a dog trailing along behind the Nord’s heels. He was sure they were very pretty heels, but if they were leading him into trouble with the Thalmor, he would make sure to end up off-course.

Disregarding the thought and his worries, since they didn’t matter with him here talking to a woman, Cole turned to say more before Veissalyn’s words stopped him short. He blinked at her a few times and leaned away, trying to process the small outburst, before he slowly inclined himself back in her direction. ”What…are we doing right now?”, he asked, with wide eyes as he pointed a finger against the top of the table. ”Or what are we trying to do to help Elmira? Or…I don’t…know what you mean.” He cleared his throat again.