Act Two Continues

After about two minutes, the lights come back on-stage, and the inn and temple props are both on display, with Comana and Octavian facing away from each other. Comana looks slightly annoyed, turning to look towards Octavian infrequently, whereas Octavian simply sulks. Huh, impressive. She looks far more put together after just a couple of minutes than I ever could. Comana has a pair of marks on her neck where she was bit the night before.

"Come, now, master. You're going to have to talk to her. You obviously still feel for her." Julian comes onto the stage, talking to Octavian. "That may be, Julian, but I am not worthy of her; my honor has been sullied." Julian yields a loud sigh, "you're being ridiculous. You love her, and it should be on her to decide whether or not your honor is sullied to her, not her." Julian starts walking to the right, and Octavian replies, "and where are you going?" "If you're going to be so ridiculous, I'm going to talk to her for you." Octavian simply sighs and shakes his head.

Julian approaches Comana, "my lady, I have come for sake of Octavian, who loves you still." She glares at him, "and why then does he not approach himself?" "He has been laid to shame by his moment of weakness, for the princess had approached him the night ante yester, and though he opposed her in heart and mind, his body was weak and he succumbed to temptations." Comana's cheeks flush, clearly thinking to her own night of succumbing to temptation, but then she resolves herself, "he abandoned me on the yester, and left with but a word. And now his squire approaches?!" "My lady, please reconsider your anger, for surely you can see-" "She can see naught but an ignoramus, squire."

Ilias comes into view, weapon drawn. "My sister has clearly told you away, and yet you linger. You beseech her honor with your presence, outsider, and now it shall be time to apply the pest removal." He lunges with his sword, just barely missing as Julian jumps back, drawing his own. The two begin to cross blades, Julian being **** to retreat until they near the center stage, with Ilias having already gotten a couple of hits in. "Now that you are properly off the thresh of the temple, you shall be removed from this plane with all prejudice." He lunges, but Julian blocks the lunge with his weapon crossed, only for Ilias to fluorish his sword around, twisting Julian's blade out of his hand. A brief look of shock is on Julian's face before Ilias plunges once more, blood spurting from the point of impact.{if Day > 0}{else} Author's note: not blood; it's water mixed with berry juice and starch.{endif} "Ilias, you villain, your actions have doomed us all." "Nay, they have saved us all."

As Ilias walks back towards the temple, Octavian notices his fallen comrade, and runs over to him, kneeling at the corpse before him. "Oh, squire of mine, wherefore have you gone? You have fallen before your time, and in my place, as honor rightly should have me slain in your stead." As Octavian weeps over his fallen apprentice and friend, Ilias arrives back at the temple, and Comana gives him one look, then one look to his sword, blood still dripping from it. "Ilias, what have you done?!" "Only that which was necessary." "You killed him?" "Nay, for it is not possible to kill a monster, merely to remove them from existence." As Ilias walks off the stage, Comana stares towards him in horror.

Octavian continues weeping over the fallen body meanwhile, and after about half a minute, Comana approaches.

"I well and truly apologize for the reproachable actions of my brother. Is there any payment I can make to compensate for his loss?" Octavian looks up to her, "nay, for a life is without price; all that is equal to one life is another; however, I am not a paladin sworn to vengeance, but to devotion." Comana nods begins to perform **** rites for the fallen squire{if Cleric = true}, which though not completely accurate, are surprisingly accurate — you suspect that there's a cleric on supporting crew helping advise the performance{endif}, after which Octavian looks to her, "thank you, Comana, for though my honor is sullied, you have still tended to my fallen comrade." She rubs her neck, but then pulls it away once it brushes the double wound. Octavian looks up, his brow furrowed and a slight frown, lips barely parted, present on his face.

"Comana, what happened? Have you been bit and are now a thrall?" Comana glances away at this, before turning back to him, "as for that last question, I am not a thrall; nor shall I be one. As for what happened —" she looks away once more "you're not the only one prone to temptations." Octavian's cheeks flush, clearly still embarrassed, nevertheless he clears his throat and speaks, "I do apologize for my behavior ere yester, my honor had been sullied, and I was not fit for you." "And now you are?" "Nay, I still believe myself not to be, but Julian wished me to allow you the chance to decide for yourself, and it only seems right to honor his dying wish."

Comana sighs and shakes her head, "though honor is important, one need not put everything on the line for it." She kneels down, meeting his forehead with her own. "I judge thee to be neither unworthy of me nor fallen from my grace." His cheeks flush, "I suppose Julian was right then, it seems a shame that it took his **** to achieve it."

After a couple of minutes, Comana stands, "you know, it's somewhat amusing that for all his love for the queen and her agents, my brother's actions have foiled at least one plan of theirs." Octavian stands as well, "whatever do you mean?" "It would seem likely that had he not slain Julian, we would have remained separated, and the princess would have succeeded in making me her consort after bites twice more." Octavian looks at her, tilting his head slightly. Comana sighs, "a thrall takes a simple bite with intent to turn them. A consort, though, requires three bites total, with intent for such." "And I take it that this shan't happen now." "As the gods will it, so shall it not pass."

The lights fade once more, and the lights at the seats come fully on. "We will conclude the play in two hours, as our actors need time to have dinner. We encourage you to seek out food yourselves." You blink, had it truly been a full afternoon? Yet your stomach makes very clear that yes, it indeed had. You and Irina get up from your seats, and file out from the theater, a small smirk on Irina's face, albeit justified, as she had been completely right in her foresight.

"Come along, I know which restaurant the actors are likely going to eat at. After we finish ourselves, you might have opportunity to talk to one or two of them, but I can't guarantee that they won't still be in character." You inquire how she knows first which restaurant and second about their unwillingness to break character. "Let's just say that the contracts don't exactly give room for breaking character while the show is ongoing. As for how I know the restaurant, the simplest way to say it is that I'm friends with one of the actresses."