The Forsaken

[forsaken-bard.livejournal.com]

The soft sounds of the harp were soothing.

This place was suspicious. He was always suspicious of Ishamael's motivations. The man was mad. Calculating sidelong glances as he watched the patrons of this weird space. He did not really care how or why they got here. That was best left to someone like Mesaana.

Sitting by the fire, a pretty man in unrelieved black sat with a glass of ice water in hand. He was speaking in hushed tones to handsome man with dark features lounging indolently on the couch. A harp sat in his lap and he played casually as he spoke.

Asmodean and Ishamael were discussing matters, dark matters, as it turned out.

[OOC: You may have one or both of the Forsaken. They aren't in long, millitime around if there would be problems. Asmodean is prior to his previous entrance and is quite evil. Please to not be breaking his brain]

Comments

[mctrillian.livejournal.com]

...




"When did you show up?"

[forsaken-bard.livejournal.com]

The bard glanced up at the woman with narrowed dark eyes. A moment of concentration as he assessed her. A short pause, and then nothing.

He returned to his music, the soft strains of the March of Death dancing off of his fingers.

[always-a-liar.livejournal.com]

Ishamael took a sip of icewater, and glanced up at the young woman. Astoreth's mother. How fascinating. His honeyed voice has a cordial, if cool tone.

"Just recently, my lady."

[mctrillian.livejournal.com]

This is one of those moments where Trillian wants to kick herself.

Time just does this. She knows he died.

But this one seems to know her.

"I see. And no one thought to warn me?" she asks, tentatively, and then starting to hum along with the bard's song.

She's tricky.

[forsaken-bard.livejournal.com]

The bard glanced up and nodded calmly to the woman. She knew the tune. Apparently, knowledge of his music extended even here. His voice is cold, and dry.

"Could you not sing while I am playing? I understand what you are doing, but I did not write the piece as such."

[dreamer_fray]

A boy walks by the two men.

Well. Not exactly a boy.

And not exactly two men. Not just ordinary men.

Harth tilts his head at them lazily, a small smirk on his lips.

[always-a-liar.livejournal.com]

A sip of water and a razorblade smile from Ishamael. As he set down the glass of icewater, the pretty man folded his hands in his lap. The harp music played idly.

"Greetings, my lord."

[dreamer_fray]

"Likewise."

From behind thick glasses that should not obscure his eyes but do, Harth continues to watch.

The other, less obvious senses flicker softly beneath the surface.

[always-a-liar.livejournal.com]

Ishamael smiled softly, and sipped his icewater. Bright, beautiful blue eyes watched the young boy carefully. A saa floated across his eyes.

"Should I offer you a drink?"

[the4thsister.livejournal.com]

Paige was sitting by the fire a little bit away from the two men drawing the fire.

She looked over at the man playing the harp, "pretty," she said with a small smile

[forsaken-bard.livejournal.com]

The musician glanced up from his harp. His voice cool and dry as he studied her with dark eyes. He held his head at on odd angle.

"Thank you, my lady."

[the4thsister.livejournal.com]

Right so probably not human, she figured looking at the man, not that should suprise her here or anywhere for that matter.

She's not worried though, she knows about the no violence rule and that she's not about to break it.

"Paige," she says

[forsaken-bard.livejournal.com]

The bard did not glance up from his music as spoke in his cool, dry voice. This woman did not worry him, but caution never hurt. Neither did courtesy.

"I am Asmodean, Lady Paige."

[cywyllog]

Cywyllog is also seated in teh area around the fireplace, as she usually is. She has noticed the men. She's a very practiced people-watcher after all, but it's the harp that holds most of her attention.

[forsaken-bard.livejournal.com]

The harpist was continually absorbed in his playing, his fingers dancing over the strings. He considered himself to be one of the greatest, and many might agree with him.

Women watching him was not a major concern of his.

[cywyllog]

She would agree he was a very accomplished player. Better than her sister, better than Guinevere, certainly, and while she has never heard Bran play, this man has many years on him.

And so she remains silent, and listens, even though harps do not always bring up the most pleasant of memories for her.

[forsaken-bard.livejournal.com]

As the song finished, the bard spoke calmly. His voice cool, and dry.

"Did it meet with your approval, my lady?"

[action-antihero.livejournal.com]

Coming back from the bar wiht coffee, Jack does a double take--a triple-take, even--when he sees who's sitting by the fireplace.

"Jasin?" he says, not entirely realizing that he's thinking out loud.

[forsaken-bard.livejournal.com]

The harper glanced up with a note of curiosity before his eyes narrowed slightly. His smile twisted slightly into a frown. His voice is cold, and imperious as he inclines his head backward.

"You must have mistaken me for someone."

A pause.

"I am Asmodean."

[action-antihero.livejournal.com]

Jack's brain does a quick calculation and comes up wiht one answer.

Either's it's Jasin from another universe, or it's the same one from an earlier point.

Either way, he decides to go with it, and he puts his game face on. "Sorry, you look like someone who was here a while ago. Jack Bauer," he says, his expression calm but cool, his tone polite but not overly friendly. "Nice to meet you, Asmodean."

[forsaken-bard.livejournal.com]

The harp music still played idly as the Memento slid from the collar of his dark grey shirt. A cold look that was polite and nothing more.

"A pleasure, Lord Jack."

[kayip.livejournal.com]

Behrooz is walking by a short ways away.

He doesn't see them at first, but when he does, he can't help but stop.

It's definitely him - Rhalen - now. There. Jasin... Behrooz thought he could've come back.

But he doesn't look like he's inclined to head over to them and find out.

He should really stop staring, though.

[always-a-liar.livejournal.com]

Ishamael turned to Behrooz and gave such a pretty smile. A light in those pretty blue eyes.

"Greetings, Behrooz."

[kayip.livejournal.com]

This is when you walk away.

Except he doesn't walk away. Can't even take a step back. He just stands there.

Finally, quietly, "They know what you did."

Long time ago. Like it matters now.

[always-a-liar.livejournal.com]

Ishamael laughed. Slowly, he rose to his feet and walked very close to Behrooz. An almost predatory grin on his face. A glint of white teeth.

"You silly boy! As if they can do something against me? Can you fight the lightning? Can you rebuke the wind? Will you be able to stop me?"

The rather simple scales that Asmodean was playing in the background seemed to belie the fearsome tone of his speech.