Cold Comfort
Log Info
- Title: Cold Comfort
- Emitter: Cryosanthia
- Characters: Cryosanthia, Sabina, Aya, Zeke, Faranmidahn
- Place: A10: Temple of Daeus
- Time: Thursday, April 21, 2020, 12:44 PM
- Summary: Cryosanthia is recovering at the Temple of Daeus when she receives two visitors. The sith is temporarily blinded, as her 'cures' shoot oozes out her eyes and they are a bit too abused to see with. Her visitors are Sabina and Aya, and while Aya is known, she has a bad reputation and Cryo is nervous around her. Cryo casts her Icicle Dagger, which causes an ooze, which is destroy with Zeke's timely arrival. Aya, a worshipper of Taara, is objectionable to the bluescale sith, and he asks her to leave. Cryo apologizes and explains that she is not herself, she has been randomly attacking friends, and Aya reminds her of her first owner and this is stressful even though she apparently intended it to be a friendly visit. Aya demures, leaves and the conversation lingers on sad topics. Zeke attempts to change the mood by discussing a recent hatching at Mictlan, which enthuses Cryosanthia a lot. Sabina leaves to let the two sith discuss nest making and filling, only for Faran to arrive and accidentally overhear what might have been a private discussion. Cryo eventually scents her, and asks her to stay, then sings her a sith lullaby. Everyone in the room is wounded and in pain, and does their best to prop each other up. Even Zephyr gets in on the act in the end, purring encouragingly.
=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=<* A10: Temple of Daeus *>=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-
The temple of the Sun Lord glitters golden beneath the same. Rather than walls, the majority of the temple is composed of what appears at first blush to be a raised round platform made of one of the largest slabs of marble likely in existence. Columns rise into the air as if to hold some massive ceiling, though instead of a normal ceiling, one finds the deep blue sky, studded by a disconcertingly close canopy of bright stars. One should not worry, however, as the rain never falls, and the wind never blows on this particular temple, but for a gentle breeze, whatever the weather outside may be.
Despite the austerity of the columns, warmth suffuses the grounds. A grand, marble statue of the Shining Knight stands a the center, a hand outstretched in benediction. Beside Him, the statue of Althea, their hands clasped in love. The central position of the temple to the others gives view to all of their children, and the two look upon one another with the solemnity of love that has been the center of so many tales and legends.
Masterfully designed mana lamps provide further soft, golden lightning where needed, their pedestals carved in the form of the Dragons of Light, over which Daeus is said to have dominion in His form of Draco Solis. Majesty, justice, and welcome suffuse the temple grounds. Around the central temple are a series of smaller buildings, each with a simple function and form. One houses the sacred book depicting some of the earliest known translations of the Laws of Light, which pilgrims from near and far come to visit. Another houses the well-appointed quarters of the Sunguards, and among all the ground bristle the Sunblades.
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- Appearing, in Order -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Cryosanthia 6'9" 267 Lb Sith-Makar Female A dashingly tall, elegant white-scaled lizard woman. Sabina 5'4" 130 Lb Human Female Tsuran woman of dark hair and green eyes Aya 4'7" 105 Lb Shadow Elf Female Mul'niessa. Braided hair. Simple clothing. Zeke 6'8" 239 Lb Sith-Makar Male A blue-scaled sith-makar in white Daeus vestments Faranmidahn 3'3" 35 Lb Halfling Female Albino Lucht woman in black leather armor with a BIG spider -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=
The room where the sith-makar is recovering is down a side passage from the main temple. There is a guard at the door. More often than not it is a male human guard, a novice Sunblade, and he is assigned here again. He's been on duty a lot, and still isn't sure what his instructions are. He's not here to keep Cryosanthia in, he's certainly been unable to keep most people out, and also hasn't been provided instructions to do so. He doesn't even announce visitors. As far as he can figure his purpose is to watch. Watch the sith run in and out, watch people go in, watch as a vampire attacks, offer a token resistance such as "She's sleeping right now, she shouldn't be disturbed" and watch people walk on past.
"She's sleeping right now, she shouldn't be disturbed." The novice sunblade says, as Aya and Sabina arrive. The door is closed, the temple room beyond is quiet.
Bina comes down the hall with arm linked with Aya's, all smiles. Her shoulder companion in place and a basket filled with sewing materials on the other arm. She turns her smile on the poor guard and steps up and onto her tip-toes to plant a light kiss on his cheek. "You're sweet to worry." ,she says before moving to the door and opening it slowly to peer within.
Aya appears mildly dubious of the Sunblade, novice or not, though his comment garners a nod. She turns to Sabina to perhaps suggest they return another time when... now she blinks at the passing affection to the guard. Her uplifting brow then momentarily hovers in mid-air as she's pulled with her escort to the door, before it then catches up to her face. "Are you certain it is wise to disturb her rest?" she finally inquires, quietly.
Inside, Cryosanthia does seem to be sleeping. She's lying on her bed, on her back, an unnatural position for sith-makar. She's made some arrangement to accomdate her horns, but it's a very straight, uncomfortable manner for her to be stretched out in. More akin to being prepped for burial, or on an examination table, than a good way to relax.
The room has a certain sort of musky lizard scent, strong and unwashed scale oils with a kind of unpleasant taint to it all. Most notably, her eyes are bandaged. If she's heard the door open, she doesn't react.
Bina makes a waving motion at Aya as if to say 'it'll be alright'. She walks quietly in and in a soft voice speaks to the uncomfortable looking Sith. "Cryosanthia? It's Sabina. If you're asleep you won't say anything and we'll go away. IF you're awake I brought a guest that says she knows you for a vist. That is if you're feeling up to it." Ahh.. friendship and kindness brought to one's bedside.
"She could also choose to say nothing if she does not wish visitors," Aya notes. Presumably to Sabina, but certainly loud enough for potentially conscious Cryosanthias to hear. She does now, finally, unlink her elbow from her escort, folding her hands before her as she looks to the resting whitescale.
The whitescale sith mouths something wordlessly at the ceiling, then grabs the edge of her bed and pulls herself to a seating position. Her voice is raw, hoarse, "So it's not time? Good..."
She exhales, looking a little more relaxed, although that does not improve the image much. Her scales seem dull, she has some hollows around her snout, her neck. Her clothes are a patient's gown, although after a moment it switches to rather beautiful layers wizards robes, white, with a repeating pattern on part of it in pale blues.
She coughs, sniffs, stretches her head in Sabina and Aya's direction. "Mul'niessa, Zap? No... female. Strike? My apologies, things have not gone so well."
Bina relaxes internally the breath she'd been holding, seeing things are going to be alright after all. "I still find it amazing that you can scent others like that." She moves over to Cryo's side and gently takes a clawed hand. The peacock on her shoulder rumbling a soft caw. "I met her today by fountian's wreckage and we had a brief but very nice conversation." She bites her lip and winks to Aya. "Care to take another guess or .. mm.. Perhaps not. You look like guessing games aren't going to be much fun for you."
"I can see that things have not gone well for you, " Aya remarks, rather bluntly, though she adds, "I was not pleased to learn of your trials. The service at the inn has suffered horribly in your absence."
GAME: Cryosanthia rolls perception: (17)+5: 22
"Race and sex is not hard Sabina, you might manage it if one is close enough, then it's simply the list of who I know." The room is distinctly cooler near her, and the bedsheets crunch as she moves. A rime of frost outlining her sleeping position lingers on the sheets. Her head moves as she attempts to track the sounds of the others moving around.
"The Fernwood? I have said my goodbyes. That was long ago."
The palescale considers the context. Up close it's very clear she's different from a few weeks ago. Her horns, for one, she seems overall bigger even if she's currently under the weather. Her markings have changed, the deep cut tattoos are gone, instead she has a pattern of glacial blue scales. A lot more ridges. She looks older, and she's not quite facing the other two, her hearing may be off.
Finally a thought clicks, "Aya?" She croaks, sounding fearful. Instinctively her right hand flicks through some motions, there's an odd swirl of light along her arm, visible through her clothes, then an icicle dagger forms in her hand. Immediately, Cryo drops it and doubles over, cramming her palms against her bandagd eyes. She starts to heave, and gasps, "Oh Ssshhss! Misstake. Clubs...gkkkak hrrrrr.. geff."
Bina listens to the reunion with a smile. She seeks to say something when Cryo lifts her heand to cast a spell. And magic is bad. She strightens with a squeek and casts about for several items. One is a bucket or jar. The second is a club. And should she find one or both she heads that way. Anywhere but right beside Cryo being a better place to be.
The quiet steps of one more person are easy to lose amid the mix of noises from the temple itself and also from the conversation happening. Particularly given that this particular person is so adept at if not disappearing, then remaining unnoticed. Zeke pauses by the door as Cryosanthia identifies Aya, and her reaction... He sees the problem before it begins to form, but he is too slow to actively stop Cyrosanthia from writing the spell. He shifts quickly, bringing his quarterstaff to bear and moving across the room in short sure steps. "Ssssa!" The exhalation is one of decision and the sith. "Onto the floor Cryosssanthia! Thisss one hasss it!"
Of all those in this building Aya expected to suddenly draw a weapon on her... well, Cryosanthia was certainly the last. Which precludes her confirming the sith's guess. Her eyes widen before they narrow, though the latter is more at her heaving and retching. Aya takes two steps back and away.
Bottles and clubs are in this room. It is quite well supplied with clubs in baskets.
Cryosanthia pitches forward and throws herself to the floor. It's not far to it, but she lands hard because she can't see and her body is rejecting an ooze. There's a moan of pain before and as she hits, and she keeps both hands clamped on the bandage across her face even as her body wracks, she dry heaves, coughs hard several times and finally with a wet gurgle throws up a glittering black ooze.
A little ooze, which immediately sclorps towards the nearest uninfected. It's almost cute. It would be cute were it not so deadly.
The peacock leaps from Sabina's shoulders for a safer perch on a nearby shelf, calling loudly like an alarm. Bina herself scoops up a club, one of many, from a basket nearer to the door and spins to face the little ooze with wide eyes. "I'm so sorry! What happened!? I'm sorry!" ,she babbles while waiting to spring in a direction away from the thing.
Zeke is in fact the nearest person, and unfortunately for the ooze, quite well-armed with a bludgening weapon. It takes him mere instants to bludgeon the ooze into a wet splatter of water on the ground. Then, he is gently moves closer to Cryossanthia, his crystal claw landing on her shoulder and a low comforting murmur echoing from his throat. Green eyes look up from the form of the white-scale to land on Aya. There's heavy caution in the sith's gaze, and then he is shaking his head at Sabina. "Ssshe cassst a ssspell. It forsssced the plague out of her, asss it doess. Come, back into the bed Cryosssanthia. Thisss one iss here now."
Aya eyes the splattered ooze a long moment, if just to be certain it is truly inanimate. Her eyes then return to Cryosanthia, and then Zeke. "A spell intended for me, I suspect, though I know not why." Her focus shifts back to the ill sith. "Obviously, her trials were understated."
"I'm sorry." Cryosanthia pants heavily, rising off the ground to her knees, feeling for the bed. She visibly relaxes when Zeke's crystal claw touches her shoulder, puts a hand over it, lets him guide her to the bed. Her voice sounds even more raw, "I'm sorry. This one is not safe. My Mistress hears all. She still holds influence. She will revenge on you."
The palescale thumps heavily on the bed, sitting and working herself back on it. She doesn't lie down. Instead, she looks around, blinded, not sure where everyone in the roomm is. "I'm sorry Aya. I felt threatened... I did not ... react well. It's been not good."
Bina is confused on multiple fronts but deems it not a good time for getting clarification. She moves back over to Cryo and the bed, giving Zeke a concerned look as she goes and sits next to the pale scale. "I'm sorry, Cryosanthia. I would soothe you like I did the other day if you'll allow?"
"If ssshe comes, then ssshe comess." Not the most comforting words but they're firm and Zeke sees Cryosanthia back to her bed before taking a step back and allowing his eyes to rest upon Aya once again. "You are Aya." It is not exactly a question, and he takes her in cautiously. "You are known among the People. Thisss one hearsss that you worssship Taara."
"I am," she confirms to Zeke. "It seems that my reputation precedes me? Though I should reminds that rumors and heresay rarely hold much truth."
"This one would like that, yes, Sabina." Cryo replies. Her voice rough and her reply ending with a cough. She reaches around grabbing on the bed for a towel to cough in, then wipe her mouth with. She slumps forward and rests her elbows on her knees, sloping away from the Tsuran, her breathing is steady again, she rubs at her bandaged eyes.
Her nose lifts slightly, snout pointing roughly in the direction of Zeke and Aya's conversation, a spot between them. She is listening. "She met Sabina and came to visit. I know her from the Fernwood. They are astray without me but not concerned enough to visit." She laughs a little, shaking her head.
Bina seems startled by this admission from Aya and her face betrays that emotion. "I'm .. not sure what to say." She says softly. She shuffles around on the bed after kicking off her boots til she is behind Cryo. Leaning agaisnt the pale scale she reaches about the horns with her hands and begins to runs fingers over the white and pale blue hide of Cryo's head. Long and soothing movements like a massage.
Zeke snorts out a rough breath and his eyes narrow on Aya. "Thissss one iss aware of sssuch. One mussst be wary of sssuch, but the People too musst be wary, and ssso we sshare wordsss. We learn to be cautioussss." His tail lashes behind him. He is uncomfortable and upset, and that much is clear at least to his fellow sith-makar. "Turn your heart from Taara, and ssseek the light. Thissss doesss not welcome thossse that worssship the godssss of /evil/ into thisss houssse."
"Of course," Aya nods her agreement to Zeke's words, or perhaps Cryosanthia's. To which, precisely, she doesn't elaborate. "I will gladly share words, though I came for her," a tilt of head towards Cryosanthia, "not debate of theology or philosophy."
The white sith is soothed by the massage, her neck then the rest of her relaxing under Sabina's touch. She is colder than the room, is likely cooling it. Under pressure, some of her scales flash a brief light. The ones tinted pale blue will glow. The two stripes down the back of her neck can be traced and throw off a faint illumination.
She can smell the other sith's agitation. She reaches out blindly for him, halts herself, and pulls her arm back drops it to rest both on her lap. The massage is helping, but she is feeling very wrung out. Her words are sad and weak, "Please Aya, no fighting. Zeke has carried a lot, my friends have bourne a lot. You came in friendship and this is greatly appreciated..."
Her voice trails off, she seems somehow guilty along with looking wretched, when she speaks again her voice is even quieter, "You remind me of Charn and my first owner... I murdered her... I thought my instincts long settled on her but the reactions are still there. It is not you. I am not well. I would share words when I am better, or maybe if they are quick and will not upset my Zeke but I don't trust my mind right now, trusting others is a great effort. Please understand, I'm sorry."
Bina watches the room even as she works on Cryo. Her eyes warry, waiting for the shoe to drop and violence to errupt while hoping and praying silently to herself that it does not. The colors and light from Cryo's scales does catch her attention and she shifts her focus to the Sith's neck and shoulders, chasing light and color, wringing her fingers when they get too cold.
Zeke's tail is ever-moving behind him. A sway of displeasure played out for those that know the signs of a sith-makar that is not happy. He hissses, shaking his head. "If you ressspect my cihuaa'sss wisshess you will go /now/ and not ssseek her again. Ssshe hasss had enough hardssship and doesss not need your pressscense to add to it." He shifts his weight his green eyes dark.
Aya turns her attention to Cryosanthia and nods, even if the blinded one cannot see it. "I applaud you for freeing yourself. With that strength, you'll quickly overcome this inconvenience as well." She pans back to Zeke. "I do, and my intention was never to add difficulty, despite what you may or may not believe." That said, she vanishes in dissipating wisps of shadow.
Through the massage, the tsuran can feel that Cryosanthia is growing tense again, feeling the movements of her cihuaa beside her, smelling his state very strongly, adopting it as her own. Her hands have closed nervously, some things she's never wanted to say aloud, they are hard to admit even if they are over three-quarters of a century ago for her. Her highlight scales continue to twinkle when pressed, irrespective of whatever else is going on. She is cool to the touch, Sabina won't get frostbite but will feel it in her fingerjoints after a time.
"Thanks, I hope to." Cryo says, to the vanishing shadows. She turns her head, listening carefully, "Is she gone?"
Bina answers Cryo's question with, "Yes. She is gone. And I am sorry. I did not know she would cause you or Zeke trouble. She was polite and even kind to me out in the temple square." Despite the muscle growing more tense the woman continues to work on Cryo, determined to soothe the sith one way or another.
Zeke hisses at the shadowy remnanats of Aya's parting. The sith shakes himself from head to toe. "Thissss one warnsss you both that ssshe isss not... kind." He tastes Sabina's word and makes a complicated face that Cryosanthia might have been able to decypher - if she could see. "Ssshe worssshipsss Taara, and thisss one hass heard from Ssvarsshan'sss own lipsss that ssshe hass /complemented/ egg-ssnatchersss on their... rearing of our hatchlingsss." He chokes on the words and visibly restrains himself from shuddering again. Zeke shakes his head. Shifts away to begin making tea in an effort to calm himself and dispell the mul's presence from the room. "Thisss one doesss not have wordsss for ssuch."
Cryosanthia's muscles lock right up at the new information, and she makes a quiet mourning warble. It doesn't last long, and after a gasp for breath she has relaxed again enough that Sabina's efforts aren't totally wasted.
"Svarshan has warned. This one did not know that. This one does not know her well. Before she would often appear suddenly and I thought she would recapture me for slavers. I was young and easily scared. I treated her respectfully in the Fernwood but have no idea what she would want of me. It had all but gone from my mind."
The palescale sith raises her head, turns blindly towards Zeke, hesitates as she asks, "Are the healers coming again today? This one is..." scared, her scent screams it, "... my eyes hurt a lot, I don't want to be permanently blinded."
"Master Zeke. You are affecting Cryosanthia in some way. I am trying to get her muscles and in turn her to relax. Please..come sit beside her. I know that can calm her and you both." Sabina requests politely. "If need be I will see to the tea."
The blue-scaled sith looks back toward the two women and flicks his tail. "It iss thisss onesss sscent. Thiss one isss..." Aggitated. Thus the making of the tea. He calms himself forcibly, moving toward the bed and sitting down on it beside Cryossanthia. Making sure that his crystal arm is closest to her. The spice of his fear adds to her fear-scent. The gut-wreching anticipation of touching. "Thisss one apologizesss. The healersss will come, but not until you are ready. The pain in your eyesss isss temporary. It iss not normal for the sspell to do thisss." He sighs softly, his words not as comforting as he would like them to be.
Cryosanthia feels the weight of Zeke settle beside her. She is breathing his fear, and her own is easily generated. She focuses her thought away from anticipated pain, it's not happening now. Reaching carefully she finds his crystal arm, then claw, and entwines her fingers and squeezes. This makes her relax significantly. Her scent is still _wrong_, because of the plague, but it's more comforting than it was before.
"You said Seldan was recovering, once you saw him after... have you seen him today, is he better? I still... don't know if I will fly at him again, if I am safe to be alone with him. I feel fine, yet..."
The impulses come without warning. Much like her grief, suddenly overwhelming, a surprise. Hidden landmines in the territory of her mind. She was not lying in her caution. "Would... several assisting with the spell help? Is there something in the magic mechanism of the ooze. It was originally to repair the Tower, this one read, it would absorb back into it. This one has no idea how she corrupted it, or if it broke in the Hells, but that was its base function."
Bina mock grumbles as the pair settle in together. "I'm tempted to work on you both. You two are a mess until you calm down. Then you seem to ..dance while still." Her fingers continue to work on Cryo, starting from head and back down through neck and shoulders, trying to make that relaxation stick. "I know things are important and they need spoken of but perhaps a new topic could be brought up for now?"
"Thisss one would appresciate if you did not, but the thought isss nisce." Zeke can not help the thrill of fear at the thought of someone behind him... touching him... as Sabina is touching Cryosanthia. No. Very much no. He holds Cryosanthia's hand however, gently squeezes it to let her know that he is here. "Thisss one..." A new topic. "Thisss one brought a new hatchling into the world today. Early thissss morning." Which probably means he didn't sleep. Again.
"Oh?" That gets her attention. Cryosanthia sits up straight, turns her head and sniffs deeply at Zeke, as if she might smell the nest-mother or the hatchling on him. "Shell broke well? Did not need much assisting, fought into the world? Nest-mother is pleased?" And sane?
Her tail starts thumping about on the bed, welcoming the unseen sith into the world. It's clearly a much happier topic for her.
Sabina smiles at this turn of conversation and in their overall happiness. She slows the massage and then breaks off from it completely. Moving to the edge of the bed and into her boots she then sets about finishing the preperation of tea that Zeke started. "A new life is a wonderful thing. The gods rejoice."
Zeke wags his tail as well, clearly pleased that Cryosanthia is pleased. "It went very sssmoothly. The nessst mother isss very pleassed." There's a small note of saddness there, but it's easily ignored. "It wassss a very healthy hatchling. Sssome of the kin were here asss well of course. It isss good yesss?"
"Yesss! They ssshould all ssssee!" Cryosanthia squeezes Zeke's crystal hand in both of hers, turned to face him, looking at him despite her blindfold with a large, normal grin on her snout. "The smallest would have to be kept back so they wouldn't cause harm, so eager they are to play, but it would be a happy occasion. This one has forgotten the time so much, is it the hatching season and many monthers in a creche or this is a single nest clutch?"
Gently the blue-scaled sith looks at Cryosanthia, she can not see him, so she can not see his expression, but his scent blossoms into pleasure. "There will be many in Mictlan, thisss one isss espected there ssoon for the beginning of the hatchingsss, but thisss one wasss an early arrival. The nesst-mother noticed the egg moving and wissely brought it to be watched. The hatchling wasss too eager to join thisss world." His tone is amused. "But it wasss born ssstrong and will not need our aid after-all."
Sabina keeps her silence, waiting for the right moment to pour two cups and then moves the small table over beside the bed for the pair. She's smiling like she hasn't done in days, happy with their simple happiness.
She checks that all is as it should be with the tea and then straighten. Then moves to retrieve her items and Lord Emp before moving towards the door where she wiggles fingers at Zeke as a silent goodbye.
"So bold! Firssst. A hero, a leader in time! Much promissss." Cryosanthia hisses happily, and much like her mate's scents will spiral her down, they also lift her up. Eager, excited, confident perfumes waft off her although they all have that undercurrent of sickness. The whitescale wills herself to ignore it. There are fears still.
"Thisss one would sssee.. when sshe can sssee!" Cryo makes a short chuff of a laugh, her tail waggling on the bed.
Zeke lifts his claw to Sabina, nodding to her in appreciation of her efforts. "Sssabina isss going." He murmurs quietly to Cryosanthia, since she can not see the woman leaving. "Thisss one will take you to sssee the hatchlingsss when you are well." The sith wags his tail, hesitantly, carefully slides his own beside Cryosanthia's. The touch sends a shiver down his spine, but he lets his tail rest there beside hers.
Faranmidahn returns to the temple after handling... business... away. The halfling is wearing somewhat plainer armor than she usualy does, unadorned with her typical markings, and she looks haggard and distant. Little Zephyr is along for the ride, nestled against her neck under her volumous and unkepmpt tresses as she comes seeking word on Cryosanthia's condition.
The palescale raises a hand in farwell to the Sabina she can't see, and it becomes a welcoming hand to Faran, who is also unseen. Her eyes are bandaged, she looks tired and sick, although the bluescale sits close and that has raised her spirits immensely.
Cryosanthia feels Zeke's tail slide in beside hers, the warm, solid press of it. A happiness spreads through her, she feels all a glow. And to an extent, she is, a flashing races over her highlight scales, a lightning like trace that starts in her tail and ends up by her ears, each briefly sparkling. It lights up the space around her before fading. "This one would love that Zeke. This one loves you. This one wants to see the glittering nest we make and lay."
She inhales his scent, the proud happiness, his nervous fear which is encouragingly weaker. She exhales strongly, smiling, joy is in her voice, "In time. When it is safe."
Embarassment rises in a waft from Zeke, but also something else. Something hopeful? He shifts slightly closer to Cryosanthia, seemingly not yet aware of Faranmidahn's presence. Cryosanthia's scent overrides that of the lucht, and his eyes are full of the female sith. He ducks his head. "You would make a nessst with thisss one?" His voice is very soft, somewhat surprised.
Faranmidahn's footfalls, light as they are, go silent and still as her ears catch the conversation at large, the lucht drawing up like someone threw a gauntlet at her feet; brambles of emotion, justified and not, scourging her as she turns away to give them privacy.
"Yes! This one would!" Cryo's voice is gleeful, her snout close to his. By scent, she's keeping herself from touching him but has nosed very close. Her breath washes over him. The bandages tight across her eyes. She smells strong, confident, eager. It's replacing the sickly scent that permeated the room, but not fully. She is ill, there are things wrong with her, her body warns Zeke on an instinctive level about the parasite he's fully cognizant of. "This one said so before. This one has not changed her mind."
"You will have to touch meeee." The palescale teases, wobbling her head playfully, although her enthusiasm mutes. Her tail slows, stops wiggling. She stops having scents at all, the earlier ones lingering but she's like a ghost in it. Her voice is careful, serious, "Has the ooze ruined me, my eggs? Is a nest still possible?"
Zeke huffs out an amused breath at Cryosanthia's teasing, his tail curling with hers. He is a healer, and the scent of sickness is not unknown or unfamilar to him. It only reminds him of his determination to have her healed. And then... her soft careful words steal his heart and the blue-scaled sith grasps her hand as strongly as he dares. Holds her tightly and makes a low careful noise in his throat. "No my cihuaa. You are not ruined. You are sssick and when you are well again, there will be a nessst Dragonfather-willing. You will teach thisss one again to not be afraid."
Faranmidahn doesn't move for some time, though with Zeke's reassurances, she closes her eyes and nods before she begins to walk away. There's too much, here, and she isn't ready. Too much within her is raw and it's attaching itself to other, longer standing hurts.
GAME: Cryosanthia rolls perception: (5)+5: 10
Slowly she returns. Cryo's scents turn back on as she relaxes her hold on her emotions. She's asked the question that has been consuming her. There is still a future, still hope. Zeke's grip on her hand is a painful sureity, she holds tight. "Thank you. This one will teach you. There is time."
She inhales and looks around, blinded, "Is someone there Zeke?"
The thought that someone is here sends Zeke's head up, shock and embarassment flooding the poor blue-scaled sith and he immediately catches sight of the little lucht as she beings to walk away. Gently he releases Cryosanthia's hand, untwines their tails, so that his slides back to his side of the bed. "Faran! Thisss one did not notissce you enter. Thisss one apologizesss."
The apology stakes Faran's leading foot to the floor and she comes to a stop, head somewhat downcast to hide in her hood as Zephyr taps at the side of her neck with her forelegs, and she turns her chin a little to the side. A drawn breath and a soft, "No... You're to be mates..." and parents, perhaps that explains the odd timber in her voice, "There... must be time for just the two of you."
"Faran, come here!" Cryosanthia blindly leans forward, holding her arms open, "We're not going to do it now. It's a possibility. Zeke was telling me of good news, unconnected from all that is going on. Sabina insisted. Come, please, I know it has been very bad for you, and I've not been here. You are important to me, you are kin, come let me help."
She hesitates a moment, the adds, her voice a cautionary tease, "Don't make me chase you blinded, there are walls, it will not end well for me. Please Faran."
If possible, and it it is, Zeke becomes even more embarrassed. Of course not /now/. He swallows and flicks his tail. "There will be time for usss later. You are here now." Zeke rises to his feet and pads quietly to the tea pot with soft step-clicks. He starts the fire that will warm the water and offers the lucht a soft wag of his tail. "You are welcome Faran."
Faranmidahn turns her face floorward, abashed anew. Oathbreaker and a bad friend besides, her demons chortle, flee your blinded sister, run from the shy friend reaching out to you. RUN, Coward, RUN! A hand lifts up into the shadows of her cowl during those indecisive seconds...
'Anyone can share friendship under the sun, little Spring, true friends are rare, and you should treasure them always, especially in the darkest nights.'
"Yes, Father..." are the first words she intones on a weak whisper and she turns back into the briar patch toward her friends and, while she can't keep all the dark stains from her voice, she does manage to force a genuine, if troubled smile on her approach, 'I... How are you both, doing?' <halfling>
"Oh Faran..." Cryosanthia waves with her hands, turning towards her friend's voice, her little sister's voice, "This one is horrid. I threw up oozes all yesterday through my whole face and the sith healer's left confounded. I feel like a dishrag wrung dry. I've not eaten and the bed is freezing. I'm not cold, it is literally building up ice. The only good thing is I've been imagining each ooze takes some of my pain with it; this is not the best method, but it is helping."
She exhales heavily, "I'm exhausted, I wish it was over. I'm here again with no idea what is going on. There is peace when I sleep but the sleep is shallow. I keep thinking of everyone, everything. I'm very happy you're here."
Zeke pours tea, some for each of them, and something... a little extra in his own to help him stay wakeful. "Thisss one isss worried about Cryosssanthia, but thiss one isss well." It's... clear that Zeke is /not/ well. Cryosanthia can not see him, but he is still wearing the battered, plauge-stained robes he has been for a few days now. He hasn't had the time to clean them. He has a look of exahution about him, tired lines around his eyes and a certain weight around his shoulders that comes from having not slept and too many bad things having happened in too short a period of time. In short, he looks nearly as wrung out as Cryosanthia does, and yet he wags his tail and pretends as if there is nothing the matter at all. "Come, sshare tea with usss."
Rest is something the three of them have been short on, it's true. She surveys her family, a concept that spikes her in the wake of recent developments and she surveys the bandages of her sister and, for the nonce, is thankful she's too short for any of her dear tallfolk to see the torment that writhes across Faran's face as she sees the bandaes over her eyes. She makes no words at first, though she veers toward Zeke on her way to Cryosanthia, her hand reflexively raising from her side, but flinches back as her promise yanks on the tendons like strings. On her hesitation is a soft, "You've a sweet heart, Zeke, thank you." that breaks her silence before she climbs up into the frozen bed with the palescale. Her last abjuration not terribly long for the world, but she can endure the conditions for the moment and she reaches out to embrace Cryosanthia... it was meant to be a careful, measured gesture, but on initiation became a sudden, fierce and desperate thing and the lucht throws herself at her sister in torment, "Cryo!"
Cryosanthia turns as she hears the climbing and absorbs the small desperate flight of the lucht. She embraces her, arms wrapping around, and it's cooler near Cryosanthia, distinctly. Her clothes switch to something fluffier, the deep velvet and fur robes she came up with earlier, and it's more like being smothered in a blanket. Almost a warm embrace. "I'll be Ok Faran, just a few more days. Don't worry."
It's easier to reassure her sister than herself, easier to find a confidence. "It's only pain, I've had worse, don't worry. I'll hold up. I'm holding together for you." All things, very true, though she doesn't want to dwell on what that worse pain might have been it will give her the strength to endure what's coming. Especially for Faran. She looks over in Zeke's direction, where he was, not where he is now. With her face bandaged it's even harder to read what she might be thinking, mean. She says, "You asked some questions, were there good answers? Things that would uplift Faran?"
Reassure her my cihuaa, that goes unsaid.
Zeke blinks down at Faran, surprised by her words and it causes him to duck his head and watch the floor as he brings the pair their tea. He sits down off to the side, where he can exhale on his own and begin drinking it. It's a bit too hot, but he drinks it anyways, to give him time to think on Cryosanthia's request. Both spoken and unspoken. "Thisss one thinksss that perhapsss ssuch can wait for another time. Thisss one would rather asssk Faran if ssshe would like to come to Mictlan for the hatchingssss. Thisss one can assk if ssshe might be made welcome."
Faranmidahn squeezes Cryo for whatever her tiny frame can manage, "You're tough, Cryo... I believe in you!" she assures her, clearly trying to be positive herself from within her own particular issues. There are questions glittering in Faran's eyes with Cryo's query, questions turned Zeke's way, though his answer seems to still what futile hope dared spark there. Her eyes go half-lidded and she sighs silently, and the offer actually gives her pause, it takes her a few moments to trust herself to inquire about the, "Hatchlings?"
Cryosanthia hugs Faranmidahn, keeping her enveloped and rocking gently on the bed. She blindly holds her left hand out, gloved, always gloved with the back turned towards where she thinks Zeke is. She's worried, always worried. Once it has hung in the air long enough she returns to holding the lucht, 'Yes! They are starting! You should go Faran! They'll love you. You should learn some creche-songs, let me see if I can remember one.'
Cryo thinks back to memories buried long ago, to a song. A song she used in the tower and the memory brushed away, so it's the original she digs at. From her mother, "Hussh Nesstling. No sssay. Thingssss; Nesst-Mother teachess. Hunt. Everythingss; Firssst Sssneak. Behind. On wading birdss; Sscent blind, won't fly, never heard. Water pigss. Hunt. Tall Grassss. Run; Strike sidesss. Move fassst. Take ssmallesst one." <draconic>
Her song is low and melodic, the harshness of the draconic words are softened, and her throat vibrates in a comforting manner. The palescale slaps on the bed to provide a little backbeat, it's clear she wants to cast something better and is holding back. Still, her singing is lovely.
Zeke tries to look reassuring to Faran, but he can tell that he's not as much as he would like to be. He drinks his tea. Watches as Cryosanthia embraces the little lucht and begins to sing to her as if she were a hatchling. Watching it fills the sith-makar with infinate sadness. Deep aching knowledge that she likely sang like this to her adopted hatchling. The one he slew. He looks away, hurt aching in his chest and clawing to get out. He doesn't add to the rhythm, doesn't move to join them. He is apart. He drinks his tea.
Faranmidahn stares out from the plush embrace, not knowing the contexts of the songs, themselves, but her mood lingers, and resonates with Zeke's as she watches him suddenly turn away. Conjecture. Speculation. Little more, though certainly not less and her eyes, embers of anguish all her own, glitter in sympathy as well for what she assumes they have in common: terrible regrets of sins they can't wash away. At least the plush is thick enough that Cryo won't feel the glittering bead that spatters on her arm. Instead, marshalling what discipline she can still manage in her state, she lifts a hand to scratch along the side Cryo's neck as she had before.
Cryosanthia did sing this in the tower. While the consicous memory is vanished it's still there in her instincts. Her body knows and remembers her softskin foundling. She knows she's lost him, and she knows Faran is not him. Right size, wrong smell, her hands stroke her neck, feeling the way they should. It pulls a lot of emotions suddenly, and her comforting noises break with sadness. At the same time, Faran is here being the surrogate, someone that needs her protection, her strength. She shakes and forgets what she's singing, speaking instead. Her voice sounds calm, and the rest of her drifts back towards that. "I'll have to translate to tradespeak for you sometime. It doesn't work as well without all the hissing and snapping. The hatchlings will love you Faran, you'll be so huge. They'll feel powerful when they take you down. You have to play so carefully, they are so delicate, so fragile."
The blue-scaled sith says nothing. Adds nothing to the conversation between the two women, not even a huff of breath. He sits there like a silent sentenial, drinking his tea and watching them. He feels like an ousider being unable to join them in their closeness. However much he longs for it he can not be a part of it. So he stays where he is and... drinks his tea.
The little sorceress is quiet as well, though her thoughts are chaos now at the idea, her face a mask of conflicting emotions. Even still, twin rose pools turn to Zeke and her other hand, the one not attending to Cryosanthia extends, palm up, fingers gently curled.
Cryosanthia raises her nose, sniffs, both clearing her snout and scenting for the tea. "Where's mine? Zeke, come close my cihuaa, close as you can? You have to practice holding younglings, and not tripping over them. Faran is much tougher and you broke her."
She grins around the room, managing to reactivate her comforting thrum and rocking Faran once more, trying to appear happy for the kin she can't see. "I'm glad you're both here. I love you both, I want you to know. I'll... be better soon, then you can lean on me. Okay?"
Zeke emits a soft sound and gently sets his tea cup - now empty - aside and rises to his feet. He steadies himself. Fear is creeping up his spine, and it grows with every step he takes toward them. How he aches to hold as Cryosanthia does... how he longs to be /able/ to. By the time he reaches them he stinks of it and his crystal hand trembles slightly as he takes Faran's hand. Just this. This is all he can offer for now. A hand that can not feel. Shame joins fear and he bows his head. "We are here for you Cryossanthia. For you to lean on now."
Faranmidahn takes the hand gently, squeezes pointlessly perhaps, but she holds his face with sympathetic gaze. She knows the strain this is for him, and so she doesn't hold it long, but her grip slackens lingeringly before drawing back for any sign that she should maintain it instead. She looks up, "I love you, Cryosanthia." she says gently, still scratching, and looks to her mate, "And you, Zeke... you're both so dear to me..." But she stops, visibly cutting herself off from anything else on that line of thought. Her thoughts are too black to be trusted, especially around those she loves, perhaps most in all the world, now.
"Oh Zeke..." Cryosanthia exhales softly. His fear is strong, it's seeping into her mind, her reactions, but she has Faran to protect and that's keeping her centered. She can pretend it's safe, she can pretend she's strong. I will protect you, my cihuaa, my kin, you are safe. She radiates calm, it's in her voice when she speaks, soft and warm. "We should go to the waterfall, the one I showed you. We can lie on the bottom and watch Faran circle above in a boat, and put fish on her fishing line, or kick her up if she swims too deep. It'll be nice."
Zeke wags his tail softly. "It would be nice to get away from thingsss for a while, but thiss one can not be ssspared at thiss time. There isss too much to be done." Somewhere a gong sounds and Zeke sighs, looks away. "Thisss one ssshould go, the healersss are coming and thisss one sssshould greet them. Thisss one will return." He nods to Faran. Touching her shoulder very briefly with his crystal claw before he begins to turn away.
Faranmidahn gently curls her hand over the crystaline limb and she nods, "I'll take care of her while you're gone." she smiles, still wounded, but wanting to be reassuring, at least that she hasn't entirely collapsed into grief and revenge. As he leaves, she turns more fully into Cryo and hugs her about the neck again, "Zephyr I think wants to say Hi, Cryo..." she says softly as the little puff takes up on her little legs and starts to scurry up onto the sith.
"A few hours, to relax and take care of yourself, so you can better serve others. You have to save yourself first." Cryosanthia says, parroting a healer's maxim. She would likely hold the bluescale down and make him eat, clean his robes, if she could see them. As it is, she takes his word that he's fine and is ignorant. A false front, the same as hers, although hers is holding up better, day by day.
She makes a happy rilling noise in her throat, and laughs. "Should I lie back and let her crawl all over me? I can try to feel her through my scales. She won't be cold, will she? This one is struggling to figure out what is doing on with that."
Zephyr, the triumphant little climber, scales the chilly sith and kind of starts moving in a vaguely prancing stride, perhaps for the cold. About the time the little arachnid hunkers down like a fascinator on Cryo's head she emits a little sound, a soft, voiceless rumble. Rather like a tiny kitten.
