Consort

Chapter Two: First Impressions

Chapter Two

 Waveney District, Greater Damnatalia

     The young Daniel Khaos sighed deeply, taking a quick glance around the hall, and then shook his head, feeling out of place. Almost the entire aristocracy in Damnatalia, it seemed, had decided to attend this evening's function, and Daniel knew of only one person in this hall. His accomplice, supplier and companion of several years since his arrival in the district of Waveney, a young Mr. Jack Johnson, stood by Daniel's side, a glass of wine in his right hand and a cigarette in his left. His green eyes were filled with curiosity and bemusement as he spoke.

"My, such a grand and beautiful hall, and yet filled with the darkest and most impure of souls. I say, Mr Khaos, this is a most ironic situation, wouldn't you say?"

Daniel tugged down the sleeves of his black suit jacket, clearing his throat. "Yes, Jack, of course." In actual fact, the boy hated the thought of such events. Corruption was always the key to disaster, and such hell was raised in places such as that which they were in. He was expected, of course, to act as though he enjoyed this, when in actual fact he could not stand the sight of anything in such a damned place.

Frescoes lined the walls in beauteous displays of religious tellings, the windows large and ornate. The floor was made of expensive marble, the ceiling covered in beautiful paintings. The image of two fighting men clad in black masks and plated armour with swords held at one another's throat had caught Daniel's attention almost as soon as he had stepped into the hall.

The sound of conversation, classical music and laughter filled the room, the horrid stench of alcohol, cigarette smoke and perfume clouding the air. Daniel resisted the urge to break into a coughing fit as a group of giggling, large-breasted women glided past he and his friend, stinking of an overpowering perfume. Jack choked on a hoot of laughter as his friend's face screwed up in disgust, and he patted Daniel's shoulder reassuringly.

"Ever been to something like this?" Jack asked; Daniel shook his head.

"Not really. I haven't ever spent much time in places like this." He admitted. "This isn't my...my cup of tea." Or blood, if he was completely honest.

"Tea is for utter nancies. A real man drinks a stiff gin as early in the morning as he wishes and sticks to it as a frequent ritual." Daniel heard a dark, monotonous, deep voice ring out behind him, and turned around slowly to see a tall, short-brown-haired, blue-eyed man with black-outlined eyes and a pale, thin, high-cheek boned face glaring down at him. Jack laughed lightly, grinning, but Daniel just smiled politely.

"Oh, excuse my intrusion. I just couldn't help chipping in my own opinion. I'm awfully opinionated, you know." Daniel cocked an eyebrow at the strange man. "Uhm. Okay."

"Oh. Alvisio Gravo. I'm this evening's host. And you both are...?" Their host looked towards Jack, who shook the strange man's hand after resting his cigarette between his lips. He removed the cigarette once again to speak, each flowing and natural movement filled with its usual grace, suggesting that each movement made was painlessly practised and made almost daily, and suggested correctly that Jack was a repetitive and ritualistic man.

"Jack Johnson. Pleasure to finally meet you in person."

"The pleasure is all mine, my friend." Alvisio looked down at Daniel, and the boy blinked in surprise. He had expected socialising, but so soon? And with their host, of all people?

He shook his host's hand timidly and sheepishly. Alvisio's smile was wide and more of a grin as he shook Daniel's hand, Alvisio's hand so much larger than the boy's own and scarred horribly.