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May 12
Having once again arranged to meet her sister in a bar, Eyrgjafa is currently leaning against it, engaging in a spot of people watching while she waits. She's dressed for the bar, too: purple mesh top over denim cutoffs.
Rhea is never on time, so Eyrgjafa is forced to wait ten, maybe fifteen minutes. At last, the Daeva breezes into the club in a...surprisingly low-key outfit. Her denim cutoffs are short enough to pay homage to a little lady named Daisy, and her t-shirt is tiny, red, and bares just the slightest tantalizing glimpse of her belly. On wedge sandals she prowls to the bar, her hair left unbound and glossy to her hips.
Eyrgjafa is well aware of her sister's tendencies. Which is why she usually sets the meeting time five to ten minutes before she actually expects to show up. She smiles at Rhea when she does arrive, though. "Looking good as always, systir mín."
"I know," she replies cheerfully, leaning in to touch scarlet lips to Eyrgjafa's cheek. "We are two stars in the night skies." Rhea swivels to lean back against the bar, spreading her arms across the rail. "What are you doing? Where have you been? Tell me everything."
"Right now? People watching with my dearest sister." Eyrgjafa jokes, before sobering. "Checking on one of the newer members of our circle. She's been having trouble adjusting, poor thing."
"Is that the one you told me to be nice to?" Rhea purses her lips, glancing sidelong at Eyrgjafa.
"It is, yes." Eyrgjafa returns the glance. "The one who brought her in was... not the best, but he's out of the picture now."
"Well..." Rhea chews the inside of her cheek, deliberating, and then in a gentler voice: "You don't have to warn me to be nice to our cousins. I promise. I...I can be nice. You believe me, mon cher?"
"Of course. I just wanted to be sure you knew to, systir mín."
"Hmph," she huffs, but it's with a grin; she lifts one shoulder to give Eyrgjafa a look that's somehow coy and innocent all tangled in one. "Of course I know! I am always nice. I set out to be the favorite aunt, I must beat you somehow."
"Is being perpetually my elder not enough for you?" Eyrgjafa teases. "But very well, you can be the favourite aunt and I shall be the responsible one."
"Oh, I am only older in age," Rhea scoffs, offering a bright giggle. "You are still wiser, and we both know it! But this new cousin - if she has need of anything, no? Money is no object. Not for family." That turns Rhea's grin crooked. "And not for clothes from my lovely tailor. I want to keep him."
"I'm not sure she'll accept it, but you can always make the offer. I need to introduce the two of you, anyway. She's a good kid."
"I can be very persistent," Rhea confides, as if it's a great secret. "of course she is; she's one of us." Rhea settles back against the bar, gaze roaming over the throng. She seems about to say something, the mask almost slipping away - but she paints on a smile. "I have worked on that story you told me about with the mermaids. Still looking for anything that will help."
"Oh? Had any ideas about it recently?"
"No, still looking through primary sources," she explains; a certain spark enters her expression, a vibrancy gained when she speaks on her faith and her intellectual pursuits. "I have hope I will turn up something. But, it made me remember how powerful Nereids were in mythology. Did you know there was one, Thetis, so powerful that both Zeus and Poseidon would not bed her? Any son of hers was destined to overthrow the father. So they married her off to a human," she laughs, dusting her hands together. "As if that settles that! Her son was Achilles."
"I didn't know that story, but that's amazing," Eyrgjafa chuckles. "Zeus not bedding someone is impressive enough, isn't it? I don't know nearly as much about Greek stuff as you do, systir mín."
"Oh, I can chatter your ear off all night, if you like," Rhea snorts, laughing a little. "To the point that you will never wish to hear another word. But oui, Zeus." She smiles fondly, as if talking about a fun-drunk uncle. "He was guided by his fear of patricide nearly as much as he was guided by his erection."
"Because it was prophesied that that would be his fate as a result of him committing it, right?"
"Oui, that one of his own offspring would rise to overthrow him. It is why he ate the mother of Athena; why he set aside any ideas of bedding Thetis."
"You'd think he'd be better about keeping it in his pants, then." Eyrgjafa shrugs slightly. "But I suppose normal men have enough trouble with that, let alone one of the gods."
"Oui, but Zeus had a better excuse than most mere men. He was the father god, after all." She sighs happily, thrumming with enthusiasm and delight. "You spoil me, talking of my favorite things. Tell me a story of your gods."
"Well. There was this time one of the Jötnar managed to steal Mjölnir, and demanded Freyja's hand in marriage in exchange for returning it." Eyrgjafa grins. "Naturally, she was none too keen on that, so the Aesir had to come up with a different plan. Which involved Loki talking Thor into dressing up as Freyja and playing the blushing bride until he could be reunited with his hammer. At which point he beat all the giants."
Rhea bursts into laughter, lifting a hand to her lips to cover her mouth. "And they believed he was Freyja! That must have been powerful magic." Her smile dims just slightly, lower lip caught between her teeth. "Tell me more about...Loki."
"Loki is... the trickster, the agent of chaos, who forces us to question why things are the way they are."
Rhea nods, thoughtful; she plucks up a lock of hair, idly braiding it. "Is he evil, do you think?"
"Well. He ends up on the opposing side to the Aesir during Ragnarok, but that is in large part a function of Odin's breaking faith with him, not the other way around." Eyrgjafa smiles at her sister. "Evil isn't really something that enters into it."
"Mm," is her eloquent, distracted response. She flicks aside the loose, narrow braid to wrap her arms around her middle instead. "I want to start a coven," Rhea admits to Eyrgjafa; for once, she is neither coquettish or falsely bright. Her expression is nothing short of ruthlessly determined.
Eyrgjafa blinks at that. "Oh? Is it to be focused on worship of your gods, or?"
She shakes her head, glancing sidelong at Eyrgjafa. "No...well, yes, but not entirely. I want to found a tradition of witchcraft."
"I see." Eyrgjafa straightens at that, turning to face her sister properly. "Do you want my help with this, systir mín?"
Rhea straightens in surprise, turning as well. "..Would you want to help in such a thing? I wasn't sure if you practiced."
"Not in quite the same way you do, I think, but we should compare notes sometime." She kisses her sister on the forehead. "Your success is important to me, just as mine is to you."
Rhea laughs a little, but averts her gaze once she's been smooched; she touches one hand to breastbone, as if to ground herself. "It's so ridiculous, mon cher," she complains quietly. "I thought I would have to...to defend myself for wishing to do such a thing. To you. Always and forever, I am prepared for my defense - and I am the only one that expects it. Bah," she flips a hand dismissively.
"Well. That you thought to prepare it ahead of time means you can always use it if somebody does question your desire, at least?"
"Oh, who would bother?" She snorts, quirking a grin. "The only bastard who would bother is oceans away, and I would rather hang by my own guts before sitting in the same room as him." She pauses, cocking her head. "Unless you made him into a blood eagle. That would be spectacular."
"Alas, no. They frown upon such things nowadays, sadly." She pauses to lean in so she can whisper in Rhea's ear. "If I ever do, I shall save his heart to present to you on a silver platter, systir mín."
"Hmph," is her pseudo-petulant reply, issued around her affable smile. At the whispering, she tilts her head to kiss Eyrgjafa's cheek. "You spoil me. But yes - back to pleasant things! I wish to start a coven. So, if you know any little pagans that want to play with the powers of creation, none of that vanilla housewife la merde.." She bumps her brows. "I think perhaps...twelve will do. One for each great Olympian."
"I give you only what you deserve." Eyrgjafa counters, before nodding. "None that I'm sure would be interested, as yet, but I do have some ideas for potentials. You met Phaedra the other night, of course."
"I did, oui," she nods. "Seems intelligent enough. Reads the cards, so at least she has advanced enough culture to avoid flinging little bits of bone around and screaming at them." Rhea rolls her eyes upward, desperately attempting to hold an innocent expression. Her lips twitch at restraining a grin, and eventually it spreads across her features.
"I do not use bone, and you know it." Eyrgjafa rolls her eyes, hitting Rhea in the shoulder gently. "Then again... making a set of runes out of that man's could give them especial power."
"Or they'd be the rudest, manipulative set of runes you ever laid hands on," she points out, one brow aloft. "Hardly worth it. Besides, I think I shall have a special set of runes made for you. Because I must spoil you."
"Oh, well, if you must, who am I to refuse, systir mín?"
"You should not," Rhea replies, tossing her head. "And yes, you are welcome to assist me, of course. What about you? Is there anything I can do to help you?" She leans in, lowering her voice with an impish expression. "Break into secret laboratories? Bubble great glass beakers of strange liquids, whatever it is you do?"
"Actually, yes, I've been running on bubbly green ooze, could you get some more for your most beloved sister?" Eyrgjafa keeps a straight face for as long as she can before grinning.
"Mon cher, you are in luck!" She claps her hands together. "I am a witch; I will just whip up a cauldron for you, bubble bubble, toil and trouble, and voila - green ooze, for all your transcendant needs." Rhea sketches a quick curtsey, simply cocking one knee as she laughs.
"Why thank you, systir mín. I shall treasure that gift forever."
"As you should." Rhea lounges back against the bar, tipping her head back languidly. "Have you seen Henry since the...dear lady passed on?"
"A few times, actually." Eyrgjafa pauses, looking at her sister seriously. "Why?"
"I just haven't seen him since the night I came home," Rhea explains, shaking her head. "I wasn't sure if things were unsettling for him."
"Oh, well. He seemed fine enough, the times I ran into him. Asked about you once, actually."
Rhea tilts her head, her smile turning delighted. "Good."
"'Good'? That's it? That's all you have to say?" Eyrgjafa sighs, shaking her head in mock disappointment. "You've changed, systir mín. The Rhea I used to know would have demanded to know more instantly."
Rhea scoffs, tossing her hair. "Aha! You have fallen for my master deception," Rhea retorts smugly. "Now I know that there is more, and I demand to know all of it."
"Oh, well. I'm not sure I should tell you, now. Not if you felt the need to trick it out of me."
"You told me about Loki and I was inspired by the divine," she fires back, as if she had the bullshit ready. She scowls, clutching Eyrgjafa's arm in both hands. "Tell me, or I...I...I can't really think of anything I would do, but it would be horrible, mon cher!"
Eyrgjafa sighs dramatically. "All right, then. He wanted to know how seriously to take your flirting with him."
Rhea's lips part; she shakes Eyrgjafa's arm violently. "And what did you tell him!? Spill it!"
"I told him many things, systir mín. Is there a particular one you would like to know about?"
Rhea huffs, folding her arms against her middle. "You're horrible."
"What, can't take a little suspense?" Eyrgjafa shakes her head, before relenting. "I told him to take it reasonably seriously, but, well. I wasn't sure how serious you were being about it, I know what you're like."
Rhea sighs, frowning. "What I'm like, oui. But - you gave him sage advice, mon cher. If it should ever come up." She slouches back against the bar once again, making a face. "Besides, I think I will be more polite in company," she admits. "I should not just be parking my ass wherever I like, with no regard for..." She snaps her fingers, nose wrinkling. "What's the word? Boundaries, oui. That's the one."
"Well, you are always welcome to sit on my lap, if you feel the need." Eyrgjafa pats Rhea's shoulder reassuringly. "I am hardly going to deny my most beloved sister her throne."
"Oh yes, I know; there was no question about that," Rhea agrees warmly, waving a hand. "I just mean...otherwise." She chews the inside of her cheek for a moment, a tic of anxiety remnant from days long past. "I'm not sure I even want the burlesque aspect of Penny Dreadful anymore."
Eyrgjafa straightens slightly, squinting at the other woman. "Are you feeling alright?"
'Yes!" She scowls playfully. "I feel fine. It's just...boring. It's so boring," Rhea admits, deflating as she confesses.
"The burlesque, or? I cannot read your mind, systir mín, that is not within my capabilities."
"The burlesque, oui," Rhea nods, murmuring. "Not..not my dancing, you understand - not my particular performance. I will always love dancing. But..." She makes a bitter face, raking her hair back with one hand. "I don't want to be the...the silly girl that sits on laps and has people prancing around showing off at her business, and...that's all, really. I...want...to have real conversations with people." She sighs again, biting her lower lip. "I just get so excited to meet new people! I like being so close to interesting people. That's why I sit on laps. I enjoy that closeness very much." She wrinkles her nose at Eyrgjafa. "I am rambling. A rambling, boring old hag. Bleghghh." She sticks her tongue out to make appropriate hag noises.
Eyrgjafa considers Rhea carefully for a moment before she speaks. "Is this something that's been brewing for a long time, or just a realisation you had since your return?"
"Oh...since my return," she admits, clasping her hands together. Rhea appears to be telling the truth, but she also seems...embarrassed, of all things.
"Well, we all change eventually, systír min." Eyrgjafa says quietly. "I think this is a discussion that merits a bit more privacy, though. Shall we relocate to your home? How far out of town is it?"
"Oh, not far!" She withdraws her phone from a back pocket, tapping at it. "I shall send for the car."
The car rolls them around to the front of Rhea's house; 'estate' is more accurate a word. On wooded acres in secluded privacy, Rhea's home is a mansion from eras past. The outside is stonework; it has security lights throughout the exterior, and a paved circle drive where they are dropped right in front of the oak double-doors. Rhea throws both doors open and saunters inside like it's a John Hughes movie; the queen returned to her castle. She moves through a huge entryway and veers right, opening glass slider-doors to a cozy little library - her favorite room, in fact.
Having followed her sister in, Eyrgjafa lets out an appreciative whistle when she enters the library, almost veering off to examine the shelves.
The bookcases are archival quality - solid oak, some cedar. All are fronted with leaded glass panes, with lights inside the cases. The books there range in apparent age from eons to brand new; the cataloguing system seems...eccentric, but who knows?
Eyrgjafa spends a few moments marvelling over the breadth of the collection before remembering why she actually came, turning to Rhea. "Do you mind if I ask what caused your realisation, systir mín?"
"I don't really know," she admits, roaming her little nook languidly. She touches a small statue here, a little knick-knack there. "I used to be so charming, didn't I?" She flicks dust from her fingers, expression flattening. "Somewhere I became a novelty, and novelty wears off." Rhea moves to a chair, dropping herself into it with a morose sort of finality.
"Things change." Eyrgjafa sighs. "Slowly what was the height of fashion becomes dowdy and old, and we must update our style or be thought the same." She moves over to perch on the arm of Rhea's chair, slipping an arm around her sister. "You will always be my most beloved sister, though."
"Hmph," Rhea replies; she snakes an arm around Eyrgjafa to pull her down into the chair, then promptly noodles around the Daeva affectionately. "Mine." She squeezes once. "Oui, that is true. I do enjoy being your sister, very much. Tell me something on your mind or your heart, mon cher; I am being greedy tonight, making you listen to all my whining."
"But what else are sisters for, if not to listen to each others' whining?" Eyrgjafa teases, kissing Rhea's cheek. "But as for something on my mind..." She sighs. "You remember that Nosferatu you met at the Hotel, a few nights ago? Alex Shaw?"
"Alex Shaw," Rhea echoes, squinting thoughtfully. "Oh, oui! Yes, I remember them. Her? Yes, I remember."
"Her, yes," Eyrgjafa nods slightly. "I have been trying to recruit her to the Ordo, but..." She sighs again. "I'm not sure if it's the best fit for her, if we... if I couldn't tell what that bastard Holden was doing to her right under my nose."
"Oh no," she murmurs, brow furrowing. "There was a bastard? What did he do? I mean," she flicks a hand, "Besides bastardly things. He was in your order?"
"Kidnapped her. Tortured her for years, under the pretense of "experimenting" on her." Eyrgjafa almost sneers when she says "experimenting". "Embraced her about a year ago, without getting Saagochque's permission first. Kept torturing her."
Rhea looks, quite frankly, nauseated; she lifts her fingers to her parted lips, shock written across her features. "Mon dieu. That is beyond the typical bastardly intentions, I must say. Oh, poor Alex," she murmurs, brow furrowing.
Eyrgjafa nods grimly. "I can't help but feel it reflects badly on my abilities as Convenor and as one of the Septemi that it went on so long without my realising."
"Is a Convenor supposed to know such things?" Her tone is gentle, head tilting.
"Not necessarily, but..." Eyrgjafa sighs again. "I've always tried to do more than some in other Academies, who restrict themselves to just organising the meetings."
"Ahh, oui, I see," she nods. "It is a particular gift among the Septemi, then? Our directive?"
Eyrgjafa nods in turn. "We're meant to protect people, to keep them safe from what other Kindred might do. Not enable it through passive ignorance."
"You are being very hard on yourself, mon cher," Rhea murmurs, idly stroking Eyrgjafa's hair. "In hindsight, sure, it's easy to look back. But in the past, you didn't know. Do you think she holds it against you?"
"I don't know," Eyrgjafa admits. "I've been afraid to ask, in case she does."
"And if she does hold it against you...then...what? We gather the torches? Put you on a stake in the center square?"
"What?" Eyrgjafa twists to look up at Rhea. "Is that what you think? That I'm looking for a reason to end my Requiem?"
"No! No, of course not," she assures Eyrgjafa, tone soothing; she draws Eyrgjafa back against her, chin on her the Daeva's shoulder. "Not at all. What I mean is - if she does hold it against you, then what? What is the worst that will happen, mon cher?"
"Likely nothing, in truth." Eyrgjafa admits after a moment. "But imagination is often wont to conjure the worst."
"Oui, likely nothing," Rhea echoes. "You are beating yourself up - with my understanding, I do understand - but it is from fear. You are too beautiful and noble a creature to feel such a thing, mon cher. And - you have forever, no? Perhaps she will come around."
Eyrgjafa nods slowly. "Thank you, systir mín. You always know what to say when I need reassurance."
Rhea sighs lightly, draping herself around Eyrgjafa. "Oui, I know," she replies, her tone light and amused. "I am inspired by the Gods. And mon cher, do not forget - you still have so much to learn from what happened to Alex. Because now, you can make it so that there is never an Alex again."
"With luck and the Gods' blessing, anyway." Eyrgjafa says, smiling slightly. "How are things in the Circle, by the way? Anything you're allowed to tell me about?"
"No," she laughs. "Only that I've only met with Henevi the once. I haven't spoken hardly at all to any others here - although Phaedra is our Haruspex, so I am very pleased to see that there is one here. Other than that.." She gestures around the room. "I have only been looking for your daughters of Nereus, making plans for my coven, and -" she smirks, rolling her eyes, "seeing if Henry will call. It makes me feel very young; it's delightful."
"I didn't realise you were only allowed one Haruspex in a city? Or is it just that she is especially gifted as a diviner?" Of course the language nerd understands what that means.
"Oh no, it is a title of significance, I believe; that she has a special place of honor. I assume she if especially gifted because of that rank," Rhea notes. "I am a haruspex, but not a Capital-H haruspex, see?"
"Ahhhh." Eyrgjafa nods. "She is definitely talented with the cards, though, I was being serious when I mentioned that last night." Eyrgjafa shrugs slightly. "I had her give me a reading a few weeks back, since you were still out of town then."
"Oui, so she is Haruspex," Rhea nods. "It doesn't trouble me; I have other pursuits."
"And how are those going for you, systir mín?"
"Well, one of them involved dragging my boat here, but it will go to good use, I think. There's a friend of Finley's that wants to take another friend of Finley's sailing. I think that was it." She shakes her head. "I wasn't paying close attention, mon cher, I must admit. They all seemed terribly smart."
Eyrgjafa glances up at her sister. "Friends of Finley's? Do you remember their names?"
"Jasper..something. And Cian...something." Rhea nods, satisfied with her report.
"The Cian-shaped friend protected poor Finley from me," she notes, pressing her lips together. "I said something insulting, I guess."
"Jasper Wright and Cian Doyle?" Eyrgjafa seems to be seeking confirmation.
"Sure, that sounds right."
"Cian's new in town, I don't know much about him yet. Probably a decent sort, if he felt the need to defend Finley, though." Eyrgjafa smiles up at Rhea. "Not that it would be needed, of course, but the instinct is still something to appreciate."
"is it?" Her tone is light. "I found it fucking annoying, but I suppose we must disagree on some points."
"Yes, well. You and I both know that you would never hurt family, but others... others don't have the advantage of having known you for a century, systir mín. Give them some dispensation for that lack."
Rhea makes a begrudging sort of noise. "....Oui, that's true," she mutters. "And...the impulse to protect Finley, oui, I should respect such a thing."
Eyrgjafa nods, smiling up at Rhea. "Did Finley seem to appreciate it?"
"Appreciate what? Cian's defense?" Rhea lifts a shoulder. "I don't know, really."
"Something to ask them about, then, I suppose." Eyrgjafa shrugs slightly. "How are the renovations at Penny Dreadful going?"
"Oh, no. I would be mortified to ask. I will bribe them with my boat and hope it makes them love me, and all will be wonderful." She flips a hand idly. "Oh, they're finished. It looks like a Victorian club on the inside, nearly made me jump out of my skin when I saw it finished. It was like stepping backward."
"Full steam ahead for the opening, then, I take it? Or are you rethinking those plans entirely?"
"We've had a few soft openings." Rhea sighs, sobering. "I don't know what I think, now..."
"Well, if you need somebody to bounce ideas off, I am always willing to help, systir mín."
"Oh yes, I know." She lays her head on Eyrgjafa's shoulder. "But we don't have to speak of it now. Thank you for listening to my tantrums."
"Any time, my most beloved sister." Eyrgjafa leans back into her, smiling softly.
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