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Post by Iolanthe on Mar 27, 2007 12:04:09 GMT -5
Iolanthe was not sure how blasphemous it was for her to step foot into the temple of the virgin goddess. The huntress, she who slaughtered men who looked upon her, and was strong, emotionless, exquisite. An ideal female figure, so to speak. Io, however, needed advice, and thought that Artemis might give the most logical response - without the flighty temperament of Aphrodite. The last thing she needed was to be stricken by uncontrollable lust.
Ergo, the Persian dressed in Greek - the Spartan Pausanias had given her leave to wear his deceased and much adored mother's dresses, at no cost to him. He had been rather kind in that, and it did make her feel somewhat less out of place. To dress as a Spartan. She could almost pretend that she belonged here. The Persian kneeled inside the temple, running dark fingers over the white marble floor, the walls of the palace gleaming with crystals, giving it an icy, glowing sensation. On her hands and knees, Iolanthe glanced up to see a stunning statue of the goddess herself.
She was beautiful. Sitting on a deer with her hunting hounds and bow. Face stoic and smooth, gazing out over her temple and her realm of the forest. Various slaughtered animals and gleaming treasures had been piled around her alter - and all the sacrifices were fresh. Iolanthe had no such sacrifice, but promised herself that she would bring one back, if the goddess would help her.
Iolanthe kept her voice low, and her eyes averted. She felt odd, and silly, but there was a reason she had come.
"I realize, Lady Artemis, you are probably not very fond of me." Pause. She was not a warrior-woman. She was not immune to the charms of men, and she certainly couldn't hold a bow. "But I do admire you greatly, and would...very much like your advice." Pause. She wasn't struck down at that, so, with dragging confidence, explained,
"There are, Lady Artemis, two men. Whom I have met and whom you probably know of already. Say that you knew these two men, if that is not an insult. Both of whom have saved your life - in one capacity or another." One through politics and one through...killing wolves. "That they are equal in prestige, both handsome, and noble, and kinder to me that I might des-well you, rather, than you might deserve-not that you would not deserve the greatest of compliments." She hesitated. Now she was rambling and made even less sense.
"They are skilled, in words or battle, and proud. When you had promised yourself that you had come for one reason to Sparta and find yourself entertaining ideas of staying - and not for the cause for which you fight. For someone else, and you find yourself conflicted between what you want and what you need, and you would like to know...how best to cope with such a situation. How...how might one go about deciding how best to...manuever such a debate? I am afraid, Goddess, if someone does not help me, I will go positively mad."
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Post by Xerxes I on Mar 27, 2007 12:23:08 GMT -5
(Heh. Because I can't resist being a total prick. Just consider this guy NPC - I might make a profile later if he keeps showing up.)
Xerxes had dozens of women, and men both who served him. Scores of beautiful youths whose only requirement in life was to satisfy Xerxes' exotic appetites. And yet the loss of one, one girl who was Persian-not even his favored exotic, had driven the King into such a possessive rage that he'd hired a man to track her down. How infuriated, then, would the great king be to find her in Sparta of all places. Barid, a highly paid and very low moraled bounty hunter considered the blow up might be extremely entertaining. The dark skinned Nubian had followed her from Sparta when he glimpsed her, and now hesitated outside the temple of the goddess. If he had been a man of prayer, he wouldn't have dared do this in a goddess' house. But he was not. And time was wasted.
Xerxes wanted his little flower back, and Barid was to deliver her. But how best to go about this? He listened. Barid, unlike Xerxes, was a calm, patient creature. He planned and considered and manipulated-that was why he was still alive. Dark dreadlocks clinking skull beads togeter, he strode inside at her question. Highly amused and flashing white teeth with his grin.
"It sounds to me," he boomed from behind her, in a deep, heavily accented tone, "as if you have yourself quite the quandary, Yasmin." He crossed his arms over his chest, the leather vest stretched over his muscled torso, a dark royal blue. "You seem to have two options. Choose one man, for if you toy with them you will certainly end up dead-and wht a waste. If you aren't killed, you will be a whore."
His smile widened, until he was practiclly laughing. "Or, you choose neither, leave Sparta, and return with me to Persia. I think you will come to your senses and choose the latter."
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Post by Iolanthe on Mar 27, 2007 12:44:28 GMT -5
She heard the footsteps, but it took a moment to register. Iolanthe glanced over her shoulder, distracted - but as soon as she saw the huge, black man she spun around, half up on one knee, glaring at him indignantly.
"You shouldn't be here..." Iolanthe warned, at once having a very...bad...feeling about...
Yasmin. What color could darken Iolanthe's cheeks bled from her face, and the girl's horror was evident. A man of Xerxes. Here...in Greece. Oh gods. Iolanthe scrambled to her feet, nearly half crouched, like a rabbit in the mood to spring.
"Who are you?" She already knew, and it didn't matter. And she hated that her voice quavered so. Xerxes. Oh gods. Oh gods, he wasn't ever supposed to find her again! But then the stranger kept talking, talking as if he was the answer to her prayers! And although Iolanthe's lips were halfparted in preparation to scream - she hesitated.
You have to choose.
Despite the madness of these circumstances, Iolanthe dreaded that answer. But it was...true.
"I would never toy with Spartan men!" she snapped back, narrowing her eyes in offense. "They deserve much better than that. Do you know why? Because they are men, which is much more than I can say for Xerxes! The pervert!" She was infuriated, enraged, as the words spilled from her lips, her tone grew louder and more impassioned. "Only Xerxes treats his women like whores! They don't! Because Spartans aren't afraid of women like Persians!"
"Or, you choose neither, leave Sparta, and return with me to Persia. I think you will come to your senses and choose the latter."
Iolanthe nearly backed into the goddess' altar, and in doing so she knocked over one of the white candles in its silver cup, spilling hot wax all over the floor - she barely noticed. But at those words, Io laughed. It was not a happy sound.
"You are mad!" she spat, eyes flashing in defiance and mockery. "I would never! Never go back to him! I will stay in Sparta, and if he wants me, tell him to come and get me himself!" She crossed her arms proudly over her chest.
"Let him try! Do you know what will happen?! The Spartans will eat him alive! You haven't seen how strong they are! He's dead! Dead!" She was utterly losing it, and only her fists hidden against her dress shook with her terror. "And so are you if you try to take me! You ought to leave...before some Spartan boy wanders along and guts you where you stand!"
Even a boy from Greece could take a Nubian. Or so she was determined to instill in him. She was all too aware how alone she was.
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Post by Xerxes I on Mar 27, 2007 13:05:07 GMT -5
(Hehe I bolded the list. Because I am a bastard. Gods forgive me 'cuz Rosario Dawson is so facking hot.  ) The Nubian ran his tongue over his teeth and strode forward, leather boots trailing muddied footprints streaking the white marble floor. He started to walk around her at her protests, completely ignoring the insults. Whether or not he agreed with her was of no consequence, because Xerxes was paying him and this was his job. He surveyed her like he was looking at a piece of property. His lip curled, like it was property he wasn't pleased with. "The best you can hope for here, Yasmin, is to be someone's mistress. Do you honestly think that these noble Spartan men you speak of so sympathetically would marry you? They want to bed you, you stupid girl. It is a stage. They will copulate with you, and then they will marry. They will marry Spartan women, because that is what the custom entails. Foreigners have no status here. You have no status. As soon as they come of age, you will be thrown out, a whore, and you will have nothing." She said she wanted to stay in Sparta? He would show her how awful an idea that would be. "You may wear the clothes, and you may call yourself Iolanga, or whatever it is, but you are no Spartan," he declared in a low, growling tone. He came closer to her as he prowled. "Your hips are too wide, your breasts are too big, your lips are too full, your skin is too brown, your eyes are too large, your hair is too thick, too dark, too..." He reached out to touch a strand of it. " The texture is all wrong. Your body, your accent, your ancestors. Who is your family, Yasmin? Where are you from? You are nothing. Nothing to them. If by some mistake you tempted one into marrying you, your husband, your union, your children would be scorned and spat upon by every Greek." He would have gone on. But he thought she got the message. So, turning around abruptly and coming to step in front of her, in her face, he shoved his dark, grisled face into hers. "Xerxes will forgive you." Right. "He misses you. Come. Home. You don't belong here." |
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Post by Iolanthe on Mar 27, 2007 19:42:50 GMT -5
(Shame on you. That's all I have to say to that. Shame. On. You!  ) Iolanthe did try to fight it. Her lungs scalded from lack of oxygen and her throat felt tight. Like she couldn't swallow. Her nose hurt and her eyes burned and she pursed her lips hard enough to hurt. She told herself not to give the monster the satisfaction. She told herself it didn't matter. More than that, he was wrong, but... She wasn't Spartan. And she wasn't that confident. And she was vain enough that it stung. When he touched her hair, she flinched. She liked her hair, she liked her face. But now...despite all attempts not to, she did start to cry. Now, Io didn't collapse on the floor or burst into loud, raucous sobs. But tears streamed down her face like twin rivers, and there was nothing the Persian could do to fight the hot paths of liquid paving her cheeks. But when she spoke, she spoke without her voice quavering. "If your...design in coming here...was to...tell me...how...undesirable I am...I would rather you keep it to yourself," she managed, glaring at the Nubian. She backed away from him, to keep him from circling her. His words just kept repeating in her head, and toyed with...saying the words seemed to make it more real. And she hated that. And she hated him. "I have no intention of tempting anyone, and I have done nothing for which I should be forgiven," Iolanthe insisted after a moment, and she continued her slow, hesitant move towards the exit. She would not go back to Persia. She would not! "Get out! GET OUT!" she finally cried, shoving at the tears with the back of one hand, the other angrily gesturing to the archway. "Just leave me alone!" |
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Post by Astinos on Mar 27, 2007 20:19:37 GMT -5
He had not meant to follow her, truly he had not. But he had overheard one of the maids in his father's household discuss the foreigner who had chosen to invade the temple of Artemis. They had spoken of her beauty and immediately he thought of her. He had taken his leave almost immediately, merely planning to post himself outside so he might catch a glance from her or perhaps a few words. He would not have understood why the women in his household then spoke of her lack of innocence in the face of the virgin goddess. But thankfully he had missed that aspect of their conversation.
He took up his chosen position then almost directly across from the main entrance to the temple. It was a favorable spot, placing him well within her sights when she existed the holy place. It also afforded him enough distance to avoid embarrassment if the foreigner was not Iolanthe. A very large male entered and Astinos stood. The man was not a Spartan.
More alarming were the angry words that bellowed out of the open temple doors. Enraged and feeling protective, the Spartan youth ran up the steps of the temple. He was followed closely by the other males close enough to see and hear what he had seen. As he came to stand behind the large man, though not nearly his size, Astinos drew his sword and held it at the base of the man's skull, "You offend the Gods! Only Greek is spoken inside the Temple of Artemis!"
His eyes flashed upon Iolanthe, his eyes were full of murder but not for her. When he spoke to her his voice was entirely different, and enough so to garner a second glance from one of the men who had followed him into the Temple. He motioned with his free hand and said, "I apologize for interrupting your prayers m'lady. You are not safe where you are but know that you DO have the protection of a Spartan sword."
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Post by Iolanthe on Mar 27, 2007 20:37:47 GMT -5
She caught a glimpse of the Greeks, but didn't know quite who it was until she heard Astinos' voice. Iolanthe stared at him, as if not quite believing he was there.
"Astinos?" Why was he here? Not that she was not grateful. Perhaps this was a gift from the gods? Thank you, Artemis. Thank you. Iolanthe wiped at her eyes with the base of her palms, now even more desperate to hide how the Nubian had upset her. When she looked at Astinos, she smiled.
"Your interruptions could not have come at a more welcome time," she replied, carefully moving around the Nubian. Iolanthe knew the man wouldn't risk attacking her with a sword at his neck, and when she reached Astinos' side, she glared at the Nubian's back. And even went so far as to step a little behind the Spartan, indicating to whom she claimed as her champion.
"I told you to leave," Iolanthe insisted angrily, "You aren't welcome here. Tell your master to stay out of Greece." And away from me, she added silently.
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Post by Xerxes I on Mar 27, 2007 21:50:50 GMT -5
Those tears softened his heart-slightly-but she grew infuriated and before he could try another form of persuasion, the blade was the back of his throat. The bounty hunter froze, then laughed, if only because this situation could not get any more perfect.
"Forgive me," he said in nearly flawless Greek, "My intention was not to upset your...goddess." He could take that either way he pleased. The little dancer seemed to have snagged herself someone a little...hotheaded. "You mistake me, my dear-" He said, speaking to Iolanthe. His dark eyes watched her move like a wolf scenting prey.
"You are stunning. You simply aren't...that." And he gave a slight nod to Artemis. He continued talking, feeling for the blade with one hand. Barid turned around, scraping the edge of the sword against his own throat in the process. He faced the knife, the man, and, his lips twisted wryly in seeing, the girl.
"I respect your enthusiasm, son," Barid said calmly, eying the boy with some amusement. "I'm not here to start a problem, but, you see, that luscious little thing is not your property. Yasmin here belongs to Xerxes, and he has paid me much to recover her. If you stand in my way...it is bad for business." Meaning, he would draw one of the two knives at his belt and slit the Spartan's throat.
He looked at Iolanthe. "Do you really want your lover to die because he doesn't understand the finer points of ownership?" Slaves didn't free themselves. He knew she knew that.
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Post by Iolanthe on Mar 28, 2007 0:47:04 GMT -5
Iolanthe was enraged. She was humiliated and angry; she wasn't anyone's property! He spoke about her as if she wasn't even standing there. Io was free now. And to be addressed as such, or connected in any way to Xerxes - not with the Spartans, and one in particular, standing right there. Did he not realize what he was doing to her chances? Of ever a modicom of acceptance? How dare he! She was doing just fine alone; she was doing fine putting it behind her. Everything. Yasmin included.
"Do you really want your lover to die because he doesn't understand the finer points of ownership?"
She chose to ignore the lover comment. The Nubian knew that was a lie. Iolanthe did her best to look unconcerned, as if the warning did not bother her. Yet again she was the reason Astinos' life was being threatened. This was not a comforting idea to consider.
"Spartans do not lose," she said instead, staring at the Nubian with such...gods, she was so angry. "You can't kill him," Iolanthe managed confidently, tilting her head condescendingly in the process. She paused, gaze darkening. Perhaps doubt? Or just indignation.
"But if you do-" Her tone was such that she emphasized she didn't believe it, "I will kill you." Iolanthe hesitated a breath - but what the Nubian had said, what he had said to her, stoked the fire of her infuriation. "You can tell him-" She didn't want to say Xerxes. Wouldn't admit it. "-to leave me alone, or I can send your tongue home in a box," she snapped.
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Post by Demetra on Mar 30, 2007 22:21:16 GMT -5
Demetra moved through the temple, back in her priestess garb, her hair pinned back elegantly, a smile on her features. It was good to be back amongst her own kind, not those sick, perverted Persians. In Sparta, any man who had even threatened this priestess like that prick Xerxes had would have been kille on the spot. But over there it was legal. Her soft sigh echoed over the walls as she continued walking, her eyes on the ground. As she turned to round a corner, she heard yelling, harsh words, and pulled the sword she always kept at her hip.
When she rounded the corner she saw Astinos with his sword to the throat of a man she did not recognize, and Iolanthe standing close by. "Astinos, put down your weapon, I will have no blood-shed in my temple." She snapped, her voice harsh, as she walked forward, her hips swaying slightly and causing the gold belt around her waist to jingle slightly. She looked at the man she did not recognize, and instantly knew he was not Spartan.
"Astinos...what is happening here?"
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Post by Iolanthe on Mar 30, 2007 22:37:55 GMT -5
"Astinos, put down your weapon, I will have no blood-shed in my temple."
Iolanthe was - at first - irritated by the demanding tone. How dare someone...but she recognized the voice. It took a moment to place, at which the tension in her shoulders eased and Io frowned, but with the light jingle of the belt...
"Demetra?" Iolanthe shot a venemous glare to the Persian and turned to the Greek priestess. Oh, she looked much better! Here, at home. Io hadn't expected to ever see her again; she hadn't known the woman was a priestess of Artemis - she'd never asked.
"How are you?" she asked gently - much more so than the angry tone she'd taken with the Nubian. She tilted her head towards him at the question, despite its being addressed to Astinos, "From Xerxes." Iolanthe could hardly contain her triumph. He was dreadfully outnumbered - she was not going anywhere.
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Post by Astinos on Mar 30, 2007 23:01:09 GMT -5
"I respect your enthusiasm, son," Barid said calmly, eying the boy with some amusement. "I'm not here to start a problem, but, you see, that luscious little thing is not your property. Yasmin here belongs to Xerxes, and he has paid me much to recover her. If you stand in my way...it is bad for business."
"Xerxes owns no property in Sparta. As long as the woman, Iolanthe, remains within these city walls she will have the protection of Spartan blades. He would have enjoyed being able to say she held his protection but he could not. He was fully capable of deciding when and if he should use his blade and the amusement present within the Nubian's eyes was an invitation. He was aware that Sparta had yet to declare war on Perisan and Xerxes. He wished Leonidas was here, he had no doubt he would have the man executed for his blasphemy. And for his pride. Astinos did not want to be guilty of such.
"Do you really want your lover to die because he doesn't understand the finer points of ownership?"
"Spartans do not lose," she said instead, staring at the Nubian with such...gods, she was so angry. "You can't kill him," Iolanthe managed confidently, tilting her head condescendingly in the process.
"You defile Artemis' with your threats." Astinos said finally to the stranger. His blade was hungry for blood but he would not commit blasphemy here. He and the others would take the man outside and spill his blood there, but not here. Not in here. Questions began to form inside his mind about the Perisan girl but he brushed them aside, deciding that Nubian had lied, much in the same way he had said they were lovers. Not that he did not want her, far from it. Still he was in no position to make notice of that fact. Not here, not now.
He caught Demetra in his sights. She looked displeased. He had known her when they were both children. If it were possible for him to have a female friend she would be the closest he could claim as such.
"Astinos, put down your weapon, I will have no blood-shed in my temple." She snapped, her voice harsh.
"I will not shed his blood on your floors without cause. If he is foolish enough to provoke me further I will save your knees, Priestess, and clean up his innards myself." Astinos answered calmly. He had been taught to never back down she knew this, and now the Nubian would recognize that fact or die without that wisdom. In either case, Astinos was ready. This would not be the first blood he had shed, but arguably the most important to him at this stage in his young life.
"Astinos...what is happening here?"
"This man defiles your temple and the reputation of this woman. She is a quest in Sparta, of Pausanias himself. Perhaps we should ask the King's nephew what should become of this blasphemer." The youth was not admitting defeat, only that he should have them gain information from the stranger before he runs his blade through the man's chest. He placed his hand out in front of Iolanthe to keep her behind the safety of his body and his blade should the Nubian be foolish enough to draw a weapon against him.
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Post by wowposter on Nov 3, 2008 2:30:11 GMT -5
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