05.26.3013: Hair of the Dog
Summary: Noire is sent to check on the late-rising Nitrim Khournas
Date: 26 May 2013
Related: None
Nitrim Noire 


Nitrim's Hotel Room
A lush, yet disheveled hotel room.
May 26, 3013

It is the morning after the field melee. In fact, it was the /late/ morning after the field melee where Veryna Larent took all, and despite the popularity of the event, Young Lord Nitrim Khournas was nowhere to be found. He was not in his rooms, nor was he in the stands, and rumors have placed him returning to the Khournas rooms at the hotel in the far early hours of the morning. However, ever since then the rumors turned into speculation as the door to Nitrim's room has remained untouched since then. To make matters worse, early morning had turned over to nearly lunchtime, and no one had been able to raise Nitrim on his earbud. There was a feast tonight, and the Young Lord would be expected to attend…

…and so Noire has been asked to check in on the Young Lord, to inform him that it is time for him to awaken and make himself presentable, and to take action if the Young Lord is endangered.

First stop the young Lord's room. Being asked by a member of the family to handle this made it important to do it right. Noire is always nervous around the Nobel class, being common born himself, still, do favors for those above you and perhaps be remembered in future when promotions come up. Access to the building is no problem with the security card he's been given. He straightens his doublet and runs a hand roughly though his hair and then politely knocks on the door.

The knock to the door was met with…silence. Ten seconds passed. Twenty seconds passed. There was no answer until there was the slight sound of a piece of furniture falling onto the floor. The soft thump echoed through the carpet beneath Noire's feet, and then the silence resumed.

Thirty seconds elapse. The young Lord is missing, his family unable to raise him on his earpiece. There was some suspicion of possible fowl play being that all the Nobles are gathered for the tournament . Such gatherings provide a chance to settle some of the darker scores between the houses, Noire knocks again. "My Lord Nitrim," he say through the closed door. I'm coming in. He slides the security card into the door slot and waits a few seconds for the lock to cycle open.

When the door opens, it opens to a dimly-lit room with thin sheets of light coming through the outside window. The room itself is lavished, but furniture has been knocked over and a cushion from a sofa is pressing against the blinds, which is the cause of the uneven lighting. The centerpiece of the large flat is a bed in the rear, to which a trail of clothing and a pair of empty wine bottles leads. For the guardsman's benefit, there is movement in the bed.

The movement in the bed, upon closer inspection, is revealed to be the Young Lord Nitrim Khournas, covered from the waist down by the expensive sheets. Barechested and sweaty, his redenned eyes crack open to see Noire from across the room. Plastered to Nitrim's chest, above the sheet, is a stark naked girl with black tattoos that cascade down her back. Her long, black hair is stuck to both her and Nitrim's skin as she rolls onto her side, nestling in against him. Her eyes, blood red, flutter open and she goes back to sleep.

Noire glances about the room, a long practiced habit of being careful, honed into him by both those who drilled him into the soldier he has become and by experiences in combat that have reenforced the lessons. He moves to the foot of the bed, avoiding the carnage of the misplaced and tumbled furniture in the room. "Your pardon, my Lord," he offers politely and with respect. "I've been sent to fetch you. Your family awaits your presence. If you would please make yourself presentable and send the young woman on her way…"

A tired grumble sounded from the center of Nitrim's chest as he peeled his hand from the young woman's shoulders and ran it through his sweaty, blonde hair. When he opened his eyes more fully, the corners of them were lined in a soft red; the telltale signs of the very last minutes of Red Eye use. The black haired girl, however, was still within the throes of perhaps another dose taken before bed.

Nitrim's chest lifts into a long, deep stretch, which nudges the naked girl away from his body. She rolls over, barely noticing Noire as she bares herself fully to him, and then comes to a stop on her opposite side. Nitrim's hand comes down onto her shoulder softly and gives it a shake. "Hey…" He murmurs with less rudeness than sympathetic finality. "…it's time for you to go. I've got to leave." His voice was choked with too many cigars the night before, deep with the stink of Red Eye. The girl slips off of the bed and walks past Noire, trying to make eye contact as she disappears behind him to gather her clothing.

"What time is it?" Nitrim sits up and reaches for a thinly rolled cigarillo on the nightstand. "Doyal, right?"

"Going on midday, MiLord," Noire answers, his eyes appreciatively folowing the woman as she passes him. Catching himself he comes back to attention. "Your sister, the Lady Reena, was becoming concerned with your absence. I was recently relieved from my post on guard duty and hen she saw I was at liberty she asked that I come find you. It is my understanding that your mother has been asking after you." he answers. And yes, MiLord it's Doyal, of the Ibrahm Mounted Foot.

Ibrahm. Excellent. Likely his family hadn't been expecting such a rude awakening, but the look Nitrim gave Noire was enough to suggest that he would have preferred this meeting with one of his own, rather than a bannerman.

Nitrim pulled out of bed wearing a pair of boxer-briefs and pulled the cigarillo to his lips. A flash of flame later, he was downing a small shot of alcohol and preparing his way towards the shower. The girl, stuffing her smallclothes into a purse, pulled her dress on and let herself out.

"My mother and sister will be happy to learn that I'm fine and well, then. Thank you, Doyal. Would you do me a favor and hand my that jacket of mine? It should be over there by the window." Nitrim asked, turning on the bathroom's faucet and giving his face a splash of cold water. "You been enjoying the tourney, mate?"

Noire moved to the jacket and lifting it turned towards Nitrim. "I haven't had a chance to see any of it, MiLord," he answers. "I've been standing duty for Khournas/Ibrahm and preparing to take up my new billet. I'm being sent to serve a Lady of my House that is married into House Arboren." He hands the jacket over. "Meaning no disrespect, MiLord," he offers tentitively, "and mindful of my place, your Lady sister expressed some urgency about your attendance upon your family."

Nitrim glanced over to Noire and took the jacket from him. As he did so, his eyes never stayed long in one place to tactfully hide additional signs of his night of partying. He was, however, functional and capable and far from any need for detoxification or being dragged into a cold shower.

"No disrespect taken, Doyal. I'll be running through the shower and making my way down post-haste. I wouldn't want to keep the festivities waiting. Some of us are bound by duty to not watch; others to do the opposite." Nitrim smirked, somewhat sarcastic in his tone. After a second splash of water to his face, he looked to Noire, eyes far less reddy now, and nodded. "Good luck to you in your new billet, Doyal."

"Thank you, MiLord!" the soldier offers and makes proper salute. "Would you like me to wait and accompany you, Sir? With all the great and vassal houses present, someone you can trust at your back isn't a bad idea."

"That would be excellent, Doyal, thank you for the offer." Nitrim returned Noire's salute and then turned his back to him. There was nothing sultry about the way that Nitrim undressed. The bathroom was a locker room, and Nitrim would need to be clean. He stepped into the shower and turned on the water, immediately moving to shampoo his hair and scrub his skin. The shower was quick and steam-ridden, leaving a fog on the mirror when he stepped out and dried himself. Within moments he was dressed and strapping his swordbelt on. Lastly…he dropped some eye drops into his eyes; the kind that masked intoxication.

"So, Doyal…" He opened the door and motioned for the man to head through first. "…this new billet of yours. Do you have a wife or children making the travel with you? Will this be a large move for you or a career one?"

Noire fell in behind the Nobleman at a proper distance for a subordinate. "To be honest, MiLord, I think it may be a demotion, although I'm unclear on what I may have done to earn it. I'd just been promoted to Sergeant and had started the training and drill rotation working with new recruits. Normally after six months of that I'd be rotated back into a normal company and be given a squad of my own. Suddenly, I was detached and told I'd be going to Arborin. As to your question about family, I haven't found a wife yet. Hard to start a family on a Man-at-Arms pay. Now that I'm a Sergeant I've started to think about finding myself a wife."

"Well, if it helps any, I haven't heard anything about a need to /demote/ you or any of the other Sergeants, but I'm not the forefront when it comes to matters of war. With the threat of the machines coming back to fight us, perhaps you've been elevated to a clinch position to defend the lady." Nitrim replied, turning to face the man at the edge of the doorway. "Rergardless, should you require a proper send off, I could arrange. One a little less exciting as my last evening, yes?"

Nitrim paused and looked into the man's eyes, there was no sign of his last night's drug use left over. The eye drops had done their work. "It will be good to know we've friends in Arboren, and know you have people who respect you in House Khournas. Shall we?"

Noire salutes again. "Thank you again, MiLord, and know that you have a friend in Ibrahm. Someone you can call on and count on at need." He stops and looks his companion in the eye. "A man does what he does, it's good to have those available to him that know how to keep their mouths shut."

The conversation in code was acknowledged by Nitrim with a knowing nod of his head and a pat to Noire's shoulder. "Good man. Good man." He murmured quietly with a smile, closing the door behind him. He spun his code-card in his hand and slipped it into his jacket pocket. "You saw her. Sometimes a good thing can't be passed up…"

With that…he started down the hallway to meet up with his family.

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