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"Wow, uh, I really didn't think I'd have to clarify anymore than that. What I said was, 'I'd like to speak with the Queen.' Look, I even did finger quotation marks to stress what I meant."
The silver-haired woman really did use quotation marks, but to the expectations of both her and the guards, the intent really didn't come across; or at least, the guards weren't very receptive.
"Move along, lady."
With a quick dismissal, the guards took back to their tall posture, doing well to keep their post. The commitment to their roles were admirable, though ultimately futile--and not for the typically violent reasons. That's not how Cyng operated--well, no, it sort of was; however, the sovereign was a bit more selective with the event and timing.
The Asura proved her title well and offered a smile to accompany an overwhelming pressure. Something so unfathomably deep and massive, but inane. It wasn't anything like spiritual pressure, or an energy of any kind. There was no substance to it, but the guards nonetheless were subject to some heavy weight bearing down on them, as if they were in the presence of their own Queen, something noble exuding unto them. The impulse to take a knee and beg subservience made them shake in weakness. Despite all of this...
"Mmm, finally a pair of guards that makes sense. I'd expect at least this much from people stationed to guard the palace of their ruler, after all. I can't understand why other people have this inclination to put easily handled weaklings at the gates of their homes of all places."
Cyng retracted this pressure, as it evidently didn't do enough to break the guards, though beads of sweat and trepidation did strike at their core. Instead, the White Rider opted for a much simpler method--the polite one.
Through the manifestation of [Heartforce], from a distance Cyng's will tapped at the Chaya Queen's Palace doors.
Knock, knock, knock.
"Excuse me, but I'd like to speak with the Queen?"
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Subject Post 3Subject: Re: Knock Knock, Queen. Sun Dec 31, 2017 2:34 pm
CYNG | THE SOLOMON SOVEREIGN
"This sure is a lot of theatrics for an off-season greeting. I think a simple "come in" would have sufficed, though I'd be a hypocrite to criticise you for any of it."
There wasn't much to say when all the setting explained itself. Just as the picture was painted, Cyng took to Inami's not-so-warm welcome and proceeded through the hallway to the Queen's throne-room, the eventful journey being just shy of a labryinth omage. If it wasn't for how very linear the journey from the front door to this throne room was, it actually probably would have been a labryinth.
"Also, my name's Cyng, actually; I'd say I can't blame you for the confusion, but I also can't say I look anything like a 'Poppet', but maybe your eyes have dulled."
Cyng stressed the last few words of her response, her eyes and the corners of her mouth--an amused smile, as always--sharpening. Corresponding her facial expression was an aura, exuding from the sovereign with something more tangible than just a presence. For all the miasma, darkness, and tones of intimidation brought by a picturesque palace throne-room fit for a literal demon queen, none of these manifestations of power would even touch the aura Cyng emitted.
That just happened to be the nature of the White Rider's presence. There is no threatening its authority, no invasion of its propiertary.
"I do appreciate your welcome and effort to expose me to your culture, but beyond the unnecessary vulgarity, it would be wise of you to recognise that, just as I am standing before a Queen, you too are standing before equal Majesty, and that's non-debatable."
The aura exuding from Cyng condensed behind her, and throughout her statement, began to take form and manifest a chair. It was simple and wooden, a modest backrest to it; but as soon as it fully manifested and Cyng took her seat, the presence emitted by the sorvereign seemed to synergise with it, and as if the moon sensed her being, its light strengthened, shifting to highlight the White Rider's visage. The chair below her had no physical changes since its inception, but with Cyng on it, the feeling that it became a throne was very real. Just as Cyng rested one leg onto the other, this throneroom very much became just as much hers as it was Inami's.
In fact, the room seemed even more ancient. Like the air from a time immemorial now filled the area, and every breath leaving the woman's lungs filled the atmosphere with time. For all the primordial presences and intimations pulsing throughout this palace, there was nothing more primordial here than Cyng.
"There's no arguing that whatever I'd like to get out of you would without a doubt be much less easily acquiesed than with anyone else I've dealt with thus far. As I said, though I am regal, you holad your own, and that is admirable. But, with that in mind, I advise you treat me with equal respect; although I am the one who approached you, I know more than I need to know about you whilst you know nothing about what you want to know about me. So let us offer each other proper cordiality, and we can move on from how distasteful our introductions have been.