Isadora's Arrival

Of Song and Spirits
The rich dark wood of the bar gleams along the entire length of the tavern's back wall. The flickering light of tallow candles within several hand-blown crimson ceramic holders reflecting off its well-oiled surface. Behind the bar, tall shelves stocked high with assorted specialties boast a proud display of colorful glass carafes, sultry rich ports, and ornate silver ale tankards. Equally dark mahogany booths cushioned in plush fabrics line either side of the tavern. Patrons are invited into the dim-lit secluded part away from the usual clamor of the foreign and local patronage. A massive iron chandelier, suspended by thick black chains above the very center of the tavern, casts its variegated shadows over the tavern.
Exits: [north] east
The vigil barkeep of the Singing Rose tavern watches the ongoings in mirth.
Marcello Fiorel says 'Greetings M'Lord, welcome to my humble tavern.'

She hadn't been in Irae long, but already she liked the city. It hadn't taken her long to settle into a fine room, freshen up, and then grace the inn's bar with her presence. She seemed to meet the nicest people in bars… Currently she sat beside a tall, dark handsome somebody who looked completely infatuated with her. [Isadora]

Everything from his perfectly coiffed hair to his exceptionally fine clothing spoke of the money he possessed, a fact that Isadora was abusing happily. A bowl of chocolate sat between them, and while she laughed flirtatiously and fed him a sliver of the sweet delicacy, someone looking closely would see the boredom in her eyes which she hid rather well. [Isadora]

A young fellow of sufficient, averagish height purposefully enters the candle-lit interior of the inn's bar. The expression on his usually-pleasant face seem to have fallen to all seriousness and a letter of charming peach-hued parchment is held, or almost lightly crushed up on one hand. He is dressed like a businessman; the garments perhaps too grave for a person of his age. [Leon]

He seems to be just standing at the threshold that separated the front of the inn and this racous bar, the dark haired young man flips open the letter in one hand in a show of infinite patience as his green eyes flick to the dainty writing on the parch to sweeping his entire sight around the poorly illuminated bar, poorly lighted of course for a good reason. [Leon]

A perfectly light, airy, flirty laugh escapes her lips as the handsome somebody leans over and whispers in her ear, brushing her ringlets over her shoulder to expose her neck at the same time. Clearly she must be enjoying some part of her parley, as she appeared to be encouraging the young somebody. While her escort continues to attempt to impress with his 'conquests' she takes a sip of wine, noticing in her peripheral vision the entrance of someone looking very similar to her cousin. [Isadora]

That very similar looking someone was indeed the someone she had came here to visit or rather, maybe the person she might not be wanting to see right now. He does not care either way, however, and the dark haired young man strolls up with a more built-up purpose on his features, while at the same time, folding the letter and sliding it into the breast pocket of his coat. A irritated "Good evening" is given to the man seated with Isadora, and a forced smile slighted towards his cousin. And he waits; she should be smart enough to know what to do next. [Leon]

Isadora waits until Leon speaks before actually choosing to shift her attention from her little tete-a-tete, "Leon! Is that you?" She gestures towards the somberly dressed gentleman standing at their table with a genuine smile upon her face, "This is my dearest cousin Leon. Sadly, you will have to excuse us, my dear, as I just have to catch up with my dearest cousin! But I will wait eagerly for your carriage in the morning. Good Evening." With easy grace she slides out of the booth, letting her handsome somebody catch her hand and give it a parting farewell kiss before slipping her free hand into the crook of Leon's elbow and directing him towards another table, "It has been far too long, cousin." [Isadora]

The dark haired young man raises his bent and knuckled hand to his forehead, rubbing off a rising arch of tension there as he allows himself to be led to the other table by the vivacious girl. The poor feeling refuses to depart and he slips a very vexed look at the vanishing back of the handsome somebody his cousin was accosting the whole yet. [Leon]

"Of course it's me." He mumbles, settling himself into the chair at the new table and then raising his head to look hard at her. "What do you mean it's far too long, I only saw you last month; you and your mother…" He catches himself in mid-sentence, and his mouth twists in sullen self-reprimand. "You and Aunt." The young man finds himself still un-used to this whole political hierarchy and sinks right into his chair; probably not liking the girl's purpose of being here. [Leon]

"And just." He abruptly snaps up, frowning, feeling a little need to be protective and dutiful. "What were you doing with that man earlier?" [Leon]

"Now Leon, don't be so sullen. Aren't you the least bit happy to see me?" Her lips purse into a perfectly endearing pout, "A month is an awfully long time you know!" She pauses, loosing the pout as she decides to simply drop the ball about why she was in Irae, "You really needn't worry about Mr. Handsome-and-rich. I'll get into far less trouble with him than you are currently in now." [Isadora]

The playful edge to her tone of voice drops off as she speaks, despite her maintaining the 'eagerly excited to see her cousin' expression. She didn't want to give anyone a reason to think that they were having a serious conversation. [Isadora]

"Trouble?" His lips purse and droop, mouthing the word one more time silently while his gaze is riveted on her face. Those eyes blink a few times slowly, as if he is registering that very word and anticipating what else she will say next. [Leon]

Since his cousin has decided to go through so much effort to play up, or maybe play down the encroaching serious conversation they are having, he leans immediately forward, lounging his elbows on the edge of the table; his dark eyebrows crescenting but unable indeed to keep a smiling countenance on his features. [Leon]

"Did my mother send you here? Did she give you money to do this?" The only objective Leon nursed regarding Isadora's presence is her coming to spy on him, but his mother Sophia wouldn't do such a sneaky thing like that — in fact, she would had sent Isadora in all pomp and finery to watch over him. [Leon]

She laughs as though Leon had just said something funny, "Oh Cousin, you cannot really be this daft. The Family is not impressed with you. Did you think we wouldn't find out? This mess you've created with some girl. It doesn't matter who convinced," she made a slight face when Leon mentioned her being sent, as though she didn't like the idea of being ordered around, so she put her own spin on it "me to take up your offer of a visit, what matters is that you have to clear your name, and now. And I'm here to help my dearest cousin." [Isadora]

Her eyes light up as she informs Leon of her offer of help. Clearly she thought he should be overjoyed at having her stay for an extended visit. Even if she was just here to keep tabs on him and set him straight. [Isadora]

His hand, knuckled again, runs across his temples attempting to relieve the ache rising in them once more. "Help?" He leans even further forward on his chair, tucking the crook of his elbow to hug his arm against his chest. "I would believe that if you are actually /helping/ me out here, instead of doing what my mother is telling you to do." He moves his hand away, balling his fingers to rest on the table; eyeing Isadora closely, and then in finality, the dark haired young man again sinks back into his chair, submitting defeat. [Leon]

"What do you want to do here then, Isadora?" He asks tiredly, certainly not meekly since he is still rather angry but it just occurred to him that the Family forgives, but does not forget. [Leon]

"You know, dear cousin, that repeating key words I say won't change them. You got yourself into this mess, and you're just lucky enough that the Family is giving you this chance." She flips her golden ringlets over her shoulder and leans forward slightly, her demeanor speaking as though she were regaling her cousin with tales of her exciting life, even though her words spoke of completely other things, "Are you, or are you not, trying to get your former lady-friend back?" Her eyes return Leon's gaze steadily, betraying the seriousness of her question. [Isadora]

"Do I have a need to?" The dark haired young man's annoyance appears to rise now; and with her approach, he removes himself from the back of his seat, slanting himself towards her closely, oblivious of his posture to the other patrons in the bar. [Leon]

"If you are trying to wreck some answers from me to boost your own little position back home — I'm sorry, my /dear/ cousin, you won't get them." His hand reaches out, closing over Isadora's elegant wrist and almost, just almost wanted to haul her up and drag her back to the hospice grounds where his current residence is. But he restrains himself; as a watchful waitress comes past and in a very shocked manner, to Isadora's side and inquires if anyone needed some assistance. [Leon]

Noticing the approach of the waitress, Isadora laughs a happily frustrated sort of laugh, as though chiding Leon, "Really cousin, you need not be so over protective! He was a perfect gentleman." She rolls her eyes towards the waitress, shrugging her shoulders as if to say 'Over-protective cousin, how annoying'. She leaves her wrist in Leon's grip though, aware of how firmly he was holding it and not wanting the waitress to think that Leon was holding her here against her will. [Isadora]

"I would love a glass of that wine I was having earlier. It was truly delectable! My cousin here would enjoy a gla-" Before she has a chance to finish her request, Leon cuts her off entirely, as though she hadn't even spoken to the waitress.

Those fingers curled around Isadora's wrist hold the fragile bones beneath her porcelain skin tight; the force sufficing to keep her there and in the position Leon wanted. From the pressed breast-coat of his pocket, the dark haired young man takes out a stamped name-card, his name and the address imprinted upon it. [Leon]

"This young lady will be leaving the Inn tonight. If you will, see to that her bags are delivered to the Giovanni House at the Hospice of St Sophia, Sera Boulevard." He dwells on a momentary pause and continues flatly. "Tell the innkeeper to charge her bills to my name." [Leon]

The waitress takes up the name-card a little warily, her head bobbing as her freckled nose wrinkles up at the mention of the Hospice of St. Sophia; the expression more of suppressed fear than anything. Lately, the Hospice had admitted a couple of mentally ill patients; instead of just those who are very sick, and it has not dwelt well with some citizens. Director di Giovanni's former background is, of course, quite a familiar gossip tale amongst the taverns and streets here — yet they needed the hospital and no one is willing to deny a source of affordable health services.[Leon]

The waitress slips off after breaking from her bothered reverie and headed to the front of the inn where the till-counter is. Leon waits, his grip still fast on Isadora's little wrist, his features turning sullenly grim. [Leon]

It took a great amount of self control for Isadora to remain neutral as Leon dictates her immediate departure; while her smile didn't flutter, her emerald eyes narrowed impetuously at her cousin. "Why yes Leon, I would love to come and stay with you!" She managed to keep the annoyance out of her voice, but something about the enthusiasm in her voice seemed overly forced. "You are so thoughtful sometimes." [Isadora]

The waitress had left far to quickly for her to even leave a message for her handsome somebody and his carriage. He would either seek her out or someone richer would come along. Oh well. At least this way she would be able to keep a closer eye on Leon. [Isadora]

If she had decided to retaliate right here, he would slap her — but he is not into the whole habit of beating up the womenfolk of his household. Nor should a Giovanni behave this ungentlemanly way to a relative even though she is not even selected for a ghoul. Nor did he ever behave that way when he was still mortal. Perhaps this is the test that his Aunt and his own mother have schemed to set Isadora upon the same path he now tread. [Leon]

"This is what you want, is it not, Cousin Isadora?" Abruptly, he lifts her dainty form almost upwards, gripping her wrist at an angle; the minute change in heights allowing the dark haired young man to press a stiff kiss against the girl's strawberry blonde ringlets; and then pulls back, adding : "You'll like your time here, I promise." [Leon]

He tells her now, with washed down triumph in his voice somehow and proceeds to pull the blonde girl along out of the Inn. [Leon]

With no resistance whatsoever, Isadora allows Leon to pull her along, doing what she can to make it seem as though he was helping her, despite the awkward angle he held her wrist at. The last thing she needed was rumours about Leon hauling his cousin off to his own hospice. "I'll hold you to that promise, dearest cousin." She leaves the inn smiling, perhaps her task won't be so difficult. [Isadora]

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