Sibling Rivalry.

["Amit Sabnis" <ajsabnis@stanford.edu>]

Ruhail and Amara Bajazet call upon Mikhail and Tat'iana Rastanyev.  Hijinks
ensue.


*Mikhail*
        Mikhail is a tall, and well built man who looks to be in his late
twenties or early thirties. Ice-blue eyes stare out at you from behind gold
wire framed spectacles. His complexion is a fairly pale white, flushed with
red at the cheeks, a complexion typical of the ruling class of Garrashu. His
coal black hair has been trimmed fairly short, styled to imitate a longer
version of a crew cut, it is immaculately groomed and well kept.

        He is wearing a crisply tailored uniform cut from a soft white
fabric. The uniform is creased and pressed with extreme care- not a single
wrinkle is to be found anywhere. The right breast of the high-collared white
tunic is adorned with several small medals and insignia(the Order of St.
Ivan I, the Order of the Holy Martyr, and the insignia of the Third Cossack
Regiment). The tunic seems to mold itself around the Earl's graceful, yet
muscular form. It narrows at the neck and chest, flaring out subtly at the
hips and extending to mid-thigh. Twin rows of four gold buttons are obscured
by a powder-blue sash appearing from under the left pogonyi(shoulder board),
and continuing to his right hip, until it is overlapped by a belt woven of
gold fabric. An ornate platinum clasp wrought into the image of a
twin-headed phoenix grasping the orb and sceptre in its talons serves to
hold the neck closed.

        A pair of slightly baggy and light weight white pants cover his
lower torso, his feet are covered by a pair of polished black leather boots
which extend to just above the calf. The golden hilt of an ornate shashka
extends from a thin and slightly curved burnished steel scabbard. A shield
belt has been cleverly worked into a ceremonial bandolier, the facade of the
control box bears the image of a nine pointed star with the rising phoenix
in its centre embossed on the front.

*Ruhail*

        A man of smallish stature, perhaps a shade under one and a two
thirds meters in height with a figure slim enough to match it. His skin is
darker than the golden hue most Bajazet nobles boast, more cinnamon than
tan, and his ashen hair accents this complexion. He wears a beard trimmed
close to his face, also colored in a sprinkle of salt and pepper, that hides
a handful of scars along his jawline and cheeks. Carmine eyes are set in the
perfect center of a narrow and angular face, leading in a direct line along
the edge of his beard to mulberry colored lips.

        He wears vestments that are not quite modern, but certainly set
ahead from the typical ornate Bajazet style. Loose gray-colored slacks tuck
into dull black boots, a strip of red running down each pant leg. Over a
white shirt with a closed neck-height color, he wears a knee-length jacket
of a dirty coal-like hue. A small red and gold flower at his left breast
marks his office and fealty to House Bajazet.

*Tat'iana*

Of average height for a woman, Tat'iana carries herself as though she were
taller than she actually is. Her chin is angled proudly, her ivory
complexion smooth and flawless. Thick, dark lashes ring steely-gray eyes,
which tilt upwards at the corners. Though they are the color of stormclouds,
her eyes do catch the light, giving them more of a silvery quality. The
sparkle is aided by a hint of mischievousness in her personality, though
hidden in her facial expression it shows clearly through her eyes. Lips that
are neither too full, nor too narrow, are pulled at the corners into a
perpetual soft smile. A hint of a blush creeps across her cheeks, giving
proof that this woman is indeed real and alive, and not just the masterpiece
creation of an artist.

The silken curls of her ebony hair are piled atop her head in an artful, and
intricate arrangement, with silver combs serving to help hold it in place.

Her gown is of a deep midnight blue -- simple in its cut and style, yet,
elegant. Pinned to the front of her bodice is an ornate, but obviously
antique, brooch depicting a phoenix, wings outstretched gloriously. Matching
velvet slippers cover her feet, the toes of which peek out from beneath her
voluminous stiff skirts.

*Amara*

 Shoulder length chestnut colored hair frames the olive skin of Amara's
face. A gossamer, golden veil covers her hair, setting off the chestnut
coloring. Dark brown eyes flash intelligently and seem to hint of a
fleeting, bemused smile, which never quite makes a full appearance.

 A light silk dress of the palest gold drapes her lithe figure, accents of
darker gold touching here and there on the fabric. A pair of light slippers
grace her feet, and she shifts her balance even as you watch, moving
reflexively from toe to heel,in an odd, but silent gait.
Carrying:
brooch

*****

Lackeys open the doors of the sleek Bajazet Limousine as it pulls into the
broad driveway ringing the Rastanyev Courtyard. The Pasha and the Lady Amara
exit at the same time from seperate doors, Ruhail circling around the back
of the limosine to stand at her side while the vehicle pulls into a parking
position.

The doors of the Rastanyev embassy are drawn open by four men clad in the
traditional midnight blue and silver robes of the Familiar Guard, their
shining silver helms and pikes gleam in the light of the perpetual sun of
Kaitain. The Earl, and a dark haired young woman stand in the entrance way
for a brief moment before gracefully descending the stairs.

Amara slips from the limosine and rises to her feet, taking in the
surroundings, her chin rising slightly as she does so.

Ruhail, a shade shorter than the elegant Lady Bajazet, looks more like a
uniformed escort than a future Baron. His arms are clasped behind his back.
His attention is directed entirely towards the pair emerging from the
Embassy, leaving the other details to peripheral vision alone.

The dark-haired woman with the Earl studies the visitors as long as
politeness allows before dropping her eyes modestly, just as they approach.

Amara draws in the scent of her surroundings and furrows her brow slightly
as she looks about.

"Please," begins the Earl, his basso voice marred by what sounds like a very
light Slavic accent, "do join us inside. We cannot have our most honoured
guests waiting and standing around like common rabble, can we?" The Earl
gestures to the open doors, and steps aside, waiting for the Bajazet to
preceed him.

Letting introductions slip for the time being, Ruhail merely bows in
response to this familiar greeting. "Thank you, Lord Earl," he replies, his
Galach prim and proper with just the slightest hints of provinciality
softening his consonants. "We are honored to receive such hospitality." He
glances sideways at Amara, indicating that she should lead.

"Indeed," Amara says quite softly before forming a studied smile as she
proceeds to the open doors indicated by the Earl.

You step into the bustling formal reception room of the Rastanyev Embassy.

Reception Hall -- Rastanyev Embassy (Kaitain)(#2775Rnt)

        The Reception Hall is square in shape. The walls are covered with
hand-polished white marble set with glit bronze sconces. A magnificent
chandelier hangs from the high vaulted ceiling, shedding soft golden light
around the room.

        Square windows line the front of the room allowing the bright
Kaitain sun to pour in during the day, and the soft glow of moonlight to
seep through during the night. A set of large ornately carved bronze doors
to the north leads to the areas of the Embassy used for State Affairs. To
either side of the doors, two small alcoves each with a small marbled topped
table and couch are tucked away allowing for private conversation even when
a large crowd is present. A raised marble dais rests in the exact centre of
the room, and upon it sit three ornately carved chairs. Beyond the chairs
are two carefully polished rosewood staircases, turning a slight spiral as
they ascend to the floors above.

Players:
 Mikhail                                            Amara
Exits:
 Rose Wood Stairway <U> leads to Second Floor Hallway -- Rastanyev Embassy
(Kaitain)
 Heavy Bronze Doors <N> leads to Hall of Boyars -- Rastanyev Embassy
(Kaitain)
 Arched Doors <S> leads to Courtyard -- Rastanyev Embassy (Kaitain)

You walk through the Heavy Bronze Doors.

Hall of Boyars -- Rastanyev Embassy (Kaitain)(#2886Rntu)

        Dim light illuminates from torches and candelabra's set in ornates
brass sconces along the wall. The flickering flames cast shadows upon the
room. On the southern and western walls hang two enourmous tapestries, on
which images of Tsarkoe, the city of the Tsars have been carefully and
painstakingly woven. Two alabaster statues stand on high marble pedastals to
either side of the entrance. The statues honour the handmaidens of the Jarla
Alexandra III during the battle of Neyvak.

        A large table cut from a white stone native to Garrashu VI sits in
the centre of the room. Chairs crafted from a dark hued hardwood have been
placed along either side of the stone table. Resting against the backwall,
not far from the table, a throne-like chair has been placed, cushions of
dark red velvet contrast the dark wood of the chair's body.

Players:
 Mikhail
Exits:
 Elacca Wood Door <N> leads to Dining Hall -- Rastanyev Embassy (Kaitain)
 Heavy Bronze Doors <S> leads to Reception Hall -- Rastanyev Embassy
(Kaitain)

You walk through the Elacca Wood Door.

Dining Hall -- Rastanyev Embassy (Kaitain)

         Warm, yellow light shines into the beautifully spacious dining room
from tall windows, the gathered curtains giving a homey effect. Footfalls
are audible against the hard floor, eye-catching designs made with several
types of wood, both light and dark. Cedar columns grace the walls.

         Set center inthe oblong room is a large dining table that could
easily seat thirty people for ameal. A solid white, silk tablecloth covers
conceals the cedar of the table, the Rastanyev crest embroidered into it at
each corner. The table is set with creamy white chinaware, trimmed elegantly
with green and gold and set off by crystal goblets.The chairs surrounding
the table are intricately carved wood, polished to a beautiful sheen.
Saffron cushions rest in the seat for comfort, and the chairs' armrests are
carved to resemble the wings of a phoenix. A solid white silk table cloth
covers the tabletop, the Rastanyev crest embroidered into it at each corner.

        At the far end of the room is the door leading into the kitchen,
china cabinets seated on either side of the exit. Currently the cabinets are
empty, the plates and other chinaware in use. Hanging above the door to the
kitchen is aportrait of lovely woman with black hair and dark blue eyes,
Ivanova Rastanyev. Just across from it, hanging above the door leading back
into the Hall of Portraits, is a painting of Valeri Rastanyev
Exits:
 Double Doors <S> leads to Hall of Boyars -- Rastanyev Embassy (Kaitain)

Ruhail moves into position towards the chair at the near end of the table,
leaving the head of the table to the Earl. His attention is caught by the
portrait of Ivanova Rastanyev for a few odd moments as he awaits either
further direction as to where he should sit or a signal to be seated.

Amara raises her eyebrows and draws in a long breath as she looks about.

The Earl offers a warm smile to his guests, indicating that they should seat
themselves wherever it pleases them. "Again, my friends, I welcome you to my
home away from homes and hope that you do not consider this humble place too
much of an insult to your refined senses."His smile seems to widen and the
gleam in his eyes seems to shine even brighter as the Lady Langkamp enters
the room. Mikhail does not yet himself take a seat.

Amara does not hesitate, and proceeds to the table, silently seating herself
in one of the chairs.

"Your Embassy is a most sophisticated example of some of the finer
architecture and decoration to be found on Kaitain, m'Lord Earl," Ruhail
responds, a slight drag in his words indicating that he is not so blinded by
humble this and glorious that as some of his predecessors were. "I trust
you're familiar with my Lady Sister, Amara Bajazet? I'm afraid that my wife,
the Baroness, has taken ill and so remains on New Adrianapolis; she sends
her sincerest regards for the Earl and his Family."

Tat'iana follows Mikhail into the room, staying near to his side. If she
notices the entrance of the Lady Langkamp, she makes no outward appearances
of it, her face remaining neutral and bland. To their guests, though, she
smiles warmly, especially noting Ruhail's observation of Ivanova's portrait.

In a covering gesture and with a hint of annoyance, Ruhail moves to Amara
and offers her his handkerchief. "I am afraid the draft of Kaitain affects
many who are used to more temperate climates."

Amara 's face twists slightly into something resembling a smile at Ruhail's
remarks, "Yes," she says, "I am to serve as my sister's proxy, I suppose..."
She looks at Mikhail, "It is... of course... A pleasure to see you, my
Lord."
Amara looks up at Ruhail, "Thank you, no, my Lord," she says, refusing his
handkerchief.

Ruhail allows himself a small shrug. He merely folds it up and replaces the
offending piece of cloth back in his breast pocket.

Tat'iana nods slowly as she listens to the pleasantries, but does not speak
just yet -- not until Mikhail has introduced her, staying true to her
stubborn sensibilities where things such as etiquette are concerned.

(OOC: Mikhail went idle and we assumed introductions after a few minutes.)

Ruhail bows as the Earl introduces his sister. "A pleasure to meet you, Lady
Rastanyev. May I present my sister, the Lady Amara Bajazet."

Amara takes a short breath and rises, smiling slightly and nodding her head
to the woman, "A pleasure, to be sure."

Tat'iana inclines her head, murmuring quietly, "I am honored....".  Her
expression returns to neutrality as she folds her hands in front of her.

"Well," Amara says, somewhat theatrically, cutting in to the silence in the
room.

Ruhail's subsequent bemused glance indicates that he would ordinarily enjoy
such needling, but he remains still and says nothing, still hovering over
Amara's chair.

Tat'iana raises an eyebrow slightly, looking from Mikhail to the Pasha, to
his sister, and back again. Her hands clench only slightly as she resists
the urge to fidget with impatience.

The Earl offers another smile, he takes his sister's arm, leading her to an
ornate chair at the end of the table nearest the entrance, and seating her
there. He then walks around to the opposite end of the table, a footman
draws his chair out, its heavy legs hissing softly as it scrapes across the
floor. The Earl seats himself and makes a small gesture, which would
probably go un-noticed by most non-Rastanyev. "Sit, Pasha, please sit,"
Echoes the Earl.

Ruhail folds into his chair quickly, the legs barely scraping aginst the
hard floor. He grasps for more pleasantries, but all he can manage is, "I
trust you and your family are well?"

Amara cannot suppress a wry smile at this superficial comment by Ruhail.

Tat'iana's lips twitch into another smile at the question, and she shifts in
her chair to a more comfortable position, though her back remains straight
and does not touch the back of the chair. She glances towards Amara, her
smile widening in conspirational amusement at the conversational attempts.

The Earl offers a small nod to the Pasha, "Quite well indeed," he muses. A
moment later, the teak sliders leading to the kitchens glide open, sighing
softly as they are disturbed from their resting place. Servants, clad in
midnight blue and white livery issue forth in great numbers, bearing
platters ladden with various lamb, beef, goat, ram, and fish dishes. Several
of the servants carry samovars, carved into representations of small trees
and small slender towers, from which steam wafts into the air. The aroma
would suggest fine tea laced with a distilled raspberry wine.

Ruhail ignores the mounds of food streaming out as he shapes the
conversation to his own end. "I am glad to hear so, m'Lord Earl. Sadly, the
same cannot be said of the Family Bajazet." His face darkens along with his
tone as if hit by a switch. "My Noble Wife's health is fading, for the
assassination of her Brother and the atrocities of Malarca Secundus have
greatly affected her. Indeed, the state of affairs in the Imperium has been
a trouble to her of late; the assassination of an Emperor and his firstborn
babe, the sale of a Nobleborn into slavery." Ruhail sighs, the weight of
myriad injustices heaped upon him.

Amara's perpetual grin fades at this turn of the discussion. Her dark eyes
turn to Ruhail as he speaks.

Tat'iana's attention to the food, and in particular the tea, is diverted by
the Pasha's speech. She listens intently, her brows furrowing. "Slavery?"
she asks suddenly. "Whom? I am afraid I have.... missed this piece of news."

Mikhail shakes his head slowly as he is reminded of these less than joyous
events. "Your wife still mourns when she has much to be happy for, many
women on Malarca Secundus cannot say that they still have their husbands,
their homes, or their property- The Harkonnen took that from them- remind
her next time to remember all the good that has entered into her life and to
thank the one to whom our souls belong." The Earl's tone is not at all
reproaching, this is more a statement of one who sincerely believe what he
is saying.

Ruhail nods in agreement at Mikhail's statement. "I have said the same to
the Lady Sarina, as have many of her closest kin. The tragedy of others has
always affected her greatly, however; thus, she was quite shaken when she
heard the fate of the Imperial concubine." He turns to Tat'iana. "You
haven't heard? The Lady Aguilira, concubine of the late Padishah Jeon, may
he rest in blessed heaven, has been bought by the gluttonous Harkonnen." He
turns to Amara, something oddly suggestive in his carmine eyes.

Amara's eyes rise in slight annoyance. "Jeon XIV," she corrects him,
indirectly addressing the issue that raises her ire.

Tat'iana swallows against the lump in her throat, her glance darting down
the table to Mikhail. "Who.. who would sell a Nobleborn... to the
Harkonnens?" she asks quietly.

Amara draws in a slight breath, her voice adopting a very slightly pedantic
tone, "Lady Aguilira was not nobleborn, my Lord. She was a commoner and an
actress before she beguiled Jeon Corrino with her charms."

Mikhail offers his Sister an awkward glance, "Why the Emperor of course, who
else?" The disdain in his voice is evident, suggesting his opinion of this
new Emperor- Noble? Hardly. Lifting a golden ladle filled to the brim with
hot tea from one of the samovars, he pours it into a simple blue and gold
rimmed mug before him. "Serve yourselves please. Meals here tend to be
informal."

Ruhail nods in approval as he reaches for a container himself. "May I serve
you, Sister?"

Amara nods in the affirmative, "Of course, my Lord," she answers, almost
curtly.

Tat'iana does not move to touch any of the food, nor the tea that so tempted
her earlier. "But.. if the Lady was not Nobleborn... then... he was
justified in disposing of her, was he not? She was a mere concubine, to the
deceased Emperor. I would hope, though, that if she had any information of
value to him, he obtained it from her before she left." Though she speaks
the words, she does not speak them strongly. Strength of conviction lacks
severely in her statements, as though she were trying to convince even
herself of their validity.

Blatantly ignoring Amara's baiting, Ruhail turns to Tat'iana as he fills a
mug with the strongest smelling brew of coffee he can find. "The Lady Ceile
was not the daughter of a Siridar, but her father's brother was a Siridar
Count," he says. "Thus, she had a position similar to a daughter you might
have...or a daughter of my Noble Sister." Ruhail deposits the cup in front
of Amara. "Hardly a commoner."

Amara shrugs disaffectedly, "She certainly behaved as a commoner, and it is
not entirely speculative to say that her father was quite likely not Lord
Aguilira himself. Regardless, I do not see what import this woman has on our
future. Clearly His Majesty is merely 'cleaning house'."

Ruhail turns to Amara with a bared tooth grin, his manner dryer than a
desert. "Fascinating concept."

A delicate young woman, clothed purely in white, with skin like alabaster
and eyes like caramels is escorted in by several servants, three of whom
pull a large and ornate harp, constructed almost entirely of gold and
platinum. The woman seats herself on a deep green velvet upholstered bench
and begins to pluck a soft melody on the instrument's strings.

Tat'iana nods slightly to Amara, then pauses, and nods again. "Indeed...
having the old Emperor's concubines be-moaning about the palace is not an
ideal situation for a young, marriageable Emperor. Especially one who has
already displayed this tendency towards 'cleaning house' - an apt phrase, my
lady. He does not act without provocation. Likely, she brought it upon
herself... that must be it..."

Ruhail picks up on the beat. "But one does not clean one's House by throwing
garbage to more garbage. What the Harkonnen could do to *any* individual,
Noble or not, makes the blood of the faithful run cold. One has but to look
at their poisoning of Malarca Secundus. Such a cowardly attack on the
masses!" His coffee cup shakes with rage as he brings it to his lips to take
a sip.

Tat'iana at last turns towards her empty plate, but only takes a buttery
roll, and fills her tea cup with the fragrantly steaming brew. She picks at
a crumb, then loses interest in the plate once more. "One must keep one's
pets happy, and loyal, my lord. Even if that means... tossing them a bit of
old meat now and then..." She glances once more towards Mikhail, studying
his expression.

"Indeed, friend Bajazet, and thusly we have every intention of bringing the
Harkonnen to task regarding their most cowardly and dis-honourable assault
on M. Secundus. The privy reports from the High council, which have graced
my desk, are most disturbing indeed," remarks Mikhail quietly. He sips from
his mug, though in a much calmer, more reserved manner.

Amara pointedly ignores Ruhail's remarks and begins, delicately, to eat.

Ruhail looks across the table at Tat'iana with barely veiled distaste, but
Mikhail's comments seem to council him to a calmer state of mind. "I am sure
that when word of m'Lords dedication to vindicate the surivors of Malarca
Secundus reaches my Noble Wife, she shall be granted new piece of mind. I
hope to bring a formal collection of evidence before the High Council on a
near date."

Tat'iana remains silent, and picks again at a couple of crumbs from the
bread on her plate.

Mikhail nods at Ruhail, "Good, good. All the evidence we can gather against
them will be most helpful in this matter, I do not think we can delay any
longer."

Tat'iana clears her throat quietly, and looks pointedly at Mikhail. "How
much do you want the support of the Lion Throne, brother?"

Ruhail carefully watches the exchange from the periphery of his vision,
focusing on serving a bit of some lamb dish to himself and Amara.

Amara rises from her seat, "Well, then. It has been most lovely, but I am
afraid I have matters of ... severest consequence to attend to at our
Embassy. If you'll excuse us?"

Ruhail pulls out the erstwhile abandoned handkerchief from his pocket and
uses it to lightly brush off his hands. Giving Amara a sidelong glance he
says, "It would appear my Noble Sister is called elsewhere. By your leave,
Lord Earl..."

Tat'iana rises from her own seat, nodding to the Lady and Pasha. "It was a
distinct pleasure, Lady Amara. I do hope you would feel welcome to return at
any time." She smiles to the other woman, genuinely.

Amara offers a polite smile in return, though her dark eyes appear wry and
impenetrable, "The pleasure was mine my Lady. You should call upon our
modest embassy some time."

Ruhail nods his head as he too rises from his chair. "We would be most
honored to entertain m'Lord and m'Lady at any date; please, do call upon
us."

Tat'iana inclines her head to both, "My thanks... I am sure we will do
so..." she says.

[Ruhail had to disconnect at this point.]

The Forms must be obeyed!

Please return to Dune III soon.

*********** D I S C O N N E C T E D ***********


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