Luck of the Bird

Log Info

• Title: Luck of the Bird

• Emitter: Ravenstongue

• Characters: Ravenstongue, Slixvah, Telamon

• Place: Ravenstongue and Telamon's house

• Summary: Ravenstongue, Telamon, and Grandfather are having a nice lunch prepared and cooked by the latter, only for it to be interrupted with a crash at the front door! Half expecting an intruder, Grandfather takes over and inspects to find-- a Slixvah! She crashed, her wings heavily molting and making flying difficult as of late. She's invited to partake in the food, and have a chat with little family about what's going on and what's new, as well as what's happening with the bird woman as of late. She's got some issues, some suggestions are brought forth (from the wrong angle) of the two fey-like beings, but Telamon offers the academic approach, and that strikes true. She sews some unluck unto Ravenstongue, them missing Slixvah with a point blank spell, and retains an open offer to be cursed more often in the future.

Lúpecyll-Atlon home, late morning.

There's someone in the kitchen, but it's not Telamon and it's not Cor'lana. The tall figure has his long black hair pulled back into a ponytail as he pulls a deep ceramic dish out of the brick oven.

"Lunch is ready," he calls out in a deep and twinkling voice.

Cor'lana looks up from her spot on the couch and smiles. "That smells wonderful, Grandfather," she says, rising up from the plush seats to walk to the kitchen table.

Pothy follows close behind, although he actually lands on Grandfather's shoulder and nuzzles against his face. This earns him a deep and affectionate chuckle that sounds more like the tolling of bells. "You are very clingy now," he says. "I cannot blame you, young Pothy. For all that you have endured..."

Grandfather says no more on the subject as he sits with Cor'lana. Being the patriarch at the table, he's the one ladling out portions from the dish, which appears to be stuffed with a sort of vegetable and venison medley, held together by stuffing and mushroom gravy. Pothy gets his own portion, too.

GAME: Slixvah rolls fly: (19)+7: 26

When Grandfather calls, Telamon sets his pen down, blowing on the lines he's written. Standing up and stretching, the study suddenly feels cramped, and a sudden urge to vault out the window springs to Tel's mind. "Maybe tomorrow," he chuckles, as he closes the tomes he's been working with. Rolling his head on his neck yields a few pops, and he reaches out to lightly stroke the flowering vines which frame his desk.

Dressed in summer garments -- loose fitting cotton tunic and trousers, with sandals -- Tel ambles out into the living and dining area. "Mmm. Smells like you've been hard at work, Grandfather. Thank you." The half-sil stretches his arms again, before sitting down next to Lana.

Such a stupid, stupid idea. You're smarter than this, girl!

That's what Slixvah tells herself as she's corkscrewing out of the air, a trail of feathers trailing behind her and fluttering down to the ground at a comparatively calm pace to the dropping rock.

There's a hard turn. Street below. Okay, just gotta flare out the wings aaaaand-

Sccrrrrrrr- THUD.

A loud crash smashes against the front door of the Lúpecyll-Alton home.

"... ow. Uh... did someone order takeout chicken...?" she tries to play off, cawing behind the door as she lays on the ground dazed.

Cor'lana almost jumps out of her chair at the very loud thud against the front door. Pothy's feathers puff up as he, too, looks terribly alarmed.

Grandfather, however, just rises from the table. "Please, sit and eat," he politely tells his grandchild, her fiance, and her familiar. "I will take care of the matter."

The fey patriarch strides over to the door. He smiles genially enough as he walks over, but in the instant that he opens the door, his expression drops to that of the impartial fey noble, feathers clinging to his shoulders and his open-chest robes flowing down his form--

And there's just Slixvah, lying on the ground.

The Feathered One blinks. "Ah. You're that egalrin woman," he says. Whether she recognizes him is a different story--after all, he's not in the bookseller's guise that she met him in previously. "...Do you require aid? Would you perhaps like to join us for lunch?"

Telamon actually jumps to his feet, dropping his spoon on the table. His eyes blaze, but then Grandfather is moving, and the young sorcerer relaxes ever so slightly. "Try not to make a mess," he advises Grandfather, as he rights his chair and sits back down again. But when he hears Grandfather say, 'that egalrin woman', he cranes his head. "Who is it, Grandfather?" he inquires.

He pauses, then adds, "And could they try to knock without using a hogshead or something? Good gods, I thought someone was trying to break in." He calmly takes a spoonful of the gravy, sipping, before taking a bite of his portion of pie.

GAME: Slixvah rolls intelligence: (11)+4: 15

The bird woman was sprawled out over the ground, the cause of her crash obvious from the patches missing from her wings in large swatches. More ribbon than feathers.

Slixvah blinks. Glances into the house, then points back at him. "Ah, you're that cute fey guy," she fires back without missing a beat. "Naw naw, I'm good, I'm good. Ain't nothin' broke broke except my pride, scattered across the ground," Slix laughs.

She rises to her taloned feet with a grunt, her rubbing her neck as she looks him over. A nod to herself. "Uh... s...-" brains catch up, "-I'll partake. Why not."

She cups her hands around her beak to talk to whoever else was in there. "Sorry! I crashed!"

Seems to be a trend of people falling.

The Feathered One's pale face breaks into a very slight smirk at the compliment, but it's only a slight curl of the lips. Flattery, it appears, doesn't get one much of anywhere with this one. "I'm sure that my child will be happy to see you," he replies, turning around. "Close the door behind you, please. It appears many... I won't be charitable. Many things have taken an interest in my child, and I won't let an open door be an invitation to them to march right in."

He walks back into the kitchen through the living room and takes a seat at his chair. "We have a guest for lunch," Grandfather informs Cor'lana and Telamon.

Cor'lana blinks--and then she looks at Slixvah. "Oh!" she says. "Slixvah, how are you doing?"

Telamon seems less fazed, as he peers past. Then his face lights up in a smile. "Slixvah! Come in, come in..." He stands up, immediately moving over to grab a durable stool and drag it over to the table. "Chair or stool? Please, sit down, it's always good to have company."

There's no sign of worry or concern on his face now, as he helps Slixvah to take a seat and make sure the door is secured, before returning to his chair again. "Still working out the fine details on flying? Or..." He looks at her wings, brow furrowing. "...shouldn't you have feathers there?" he asks.

Slixvah bobs her head, a lazy feather from her wing subtly wrapping around the door handle and shutting it behind her as she slips inside. She looks about the space, brows raising at the winding decor of vines. "Ooh, slick place. I'll try ta not scuff up the floor."

She follows in behind the Feathered One, her stopping just before the table in the kitchen. Does she look awkward? Can Slix even be awkward? It has to be the missing feathers on her wings. Self conscious?

Oh, questions are being flung her way. "A-Ah, stool please, I don' think m'back would like ta touch the back of a chair at present," she softly laughs, rubbing her neck as she slips into the provided stool. "Thanks, hon."

A glance back to her wings, then a little shrug. "The fine deets I already know back and forth. It's just, uh..." She rubs her face. "...I think? I'm molting? Which is right odd cause I ain't fifteen years old."

Her face thuds against the table. "Dunno what it is, but ah well." Slump. Perk up. "Thanks for havin' me. What we havin'? Is it uh-" A glance to the Feathered One, "-people safe?" She's well learned.

Grandfather does smirk more fully at that question. It appears he appreciates learning moreso than flattery. "Yes, it's perfectly safe for you to eat," he replies. "Even the venison was purchased this morning from some hunters in the marketplace. You need not worry--much as my child could handle the taste of Quelynos food, I would not dare rob her betrothed of his sense of taste. That would give his parents grounds to throttle me if their son couldn't taste their cooking anymore."

He turns to Telamon and says, "I say parents, as I do not know which of them does 'the cooking', as is common in mortal partnerships." It's odd to hear him use a rustic turn of phrase from mortalkind. Perhaps something he picked up from his stint at the bookshop.

Cor'lana snickers. "I mean, I do a fair bit of the cooking. Slixvah, it's vegetables with venison and mushroom gravy. Grandfather cooked it, however, so it's going to be sublime."

Grandfather, however, looks a little concerned at the mention of molting feathers. "My birds molt once a year, at the turning of rule in the Courts," he says. "Do the egalrin not do the same?--Either way, were we in Quelynos, I'd be able to fix that for you quickly. I prefer to let my birds do it themselves, but the younger ones occasionally have... issues, and my sentimental heart hates to see them suffer."

"It rotates, Grandfather. I think we all did a turn cooking when we were home." Telamon takes another bite of pie, before continuing. "Mother prefers to grill or cook on skewers, where father prefers to cook soups or stews. Uncle Telgari, interestingly, seems to have a knack for baking." He shrugs lightly, and grins. "Benefit of being in a big family. Everyone has new ideas on what to have."

He nods to Slixvah. "Grandfather does excellent work with 'merely mortal' ingredients. And honestly, I think we all enjoy the chance to sit together, commiserate, and be a family." As if to punctuate the remark, he deftly fishes out a bit of venison, passing it to Pothy.

At the mention of molting, he looks thoughtful. "I expect egalrin molt regularly, but a little at a time, not a great deal all at once. Had any problems recently, Slixvah?"

Slixah gives a happy hum and nods, her retrieving herself a portion. "Appreciated, sorry for bein' suspicious," she winks. A spoon mixes the plate idly, her brows raising. "That does sound right lovely."

She takes a monch, eyes closing and swaying idly from side to side, the motion making a few rust red feathers to flutter down. "It's really good~" she twitters, tone trilling.

"My dad did the huntin' fo' the Aerie. Momma cooked sorta, but she was busy wit' fixin' people up. M'brothers and sistas picked up a lot of the work. Sure as heck ain't one momma feedin' thirteen mouths on her own."

She takes another bite, using it to mellow herself and buy a moment to think. "We do, ya right," she answers. "Just like, not all at once, ya dig? I appreciate the offer, Mista Granfather, but whatever it is, gonna let it go naturally."

Problems recently? Her eyes crinkle in a smile. "I have lots of problems. Though none ya don' gotta worry ya'self 'bout," she replies in a blunt yet evasive manner.

Cor'lana smiles a little at the topic of big families. "It was just my mom, Pothy, and me," she says. "Father wasn't around--Mother ran to get away from him, because she thought Grandfather was going to eat me." The last bit is said with a smile, but it earns a little huff from Grandfther.

"And my bloodline used to be larger," Grandfather replies. "Now it is merely my child and her lamentable father. But, I know that in time, we will have more children scurrying about." He grins a little at Cor'lana, who shuffles about for a moment as her face flushes. "Only when Tel and I are both ready," she murmurs. "Give it a decade or so. We could wait longer, but I won't deny Telamon's mother a chance to be a doting grandmother."

Such is the peril of human lifespans. She looks over at Slixvah, however, and she smiles sadly. "Well," she says, "problems will eat at you from the inside if you don't talk about them. This home tends to hear a lot of them aired out--and people tend to heal a little for it. No judgment and no pressure."

Telamon takes the opportunity to slip out and do the dishes before Grandfather can. It won't do to have the patriarch do all the chores in the household. (Plus, his claws might scratch the fine porcelain.)

Slix continues to eat, perhaps with a bit of enthusiasm. Molting takes a lot of energy! At least it won't go to her waist. She bobs her head along, looking to Lana, to Grandfather, then back to Lana. She chuckles. "Take ya time. I know ya'll ain't got the decades ta mull over it like I do, but ain't no rush to get to it either. And no pressure either," she intones, shooting a challenging glance to Grandfather.

The egalrin stirs her plate of delicious food with a spoon. Beak grinding against itself in a thinking manner. A piece of venison is offered to Pothy as a way to extend the silence. "... aight. I'll bite." A sigh. "One problem out of many, but it's one. I'm trying ta figure out how ta counteract somethin' that's been a constant in my life for a long while."

Her eyes drift across the table to the others. "I'm a walkin' good luck charm. Sounds great, but it's not really if ya think about it."

Cor'lana mulls over it for a long second. But it's Grandfather who speaks first, also looking thoughtful. "I could see how that's problematic," he says. "You must doubt your own abilities, unsure of whether it's the luck you have that makes you successful or your own competence."

That massive clawed hand of his goes to tap his chin in thought. Violet eyes fix onto Slixvah.

"And it must be... disheartening, to see others benefit off your luck. Perhaps even isolating. You see their success and you find yourself wishing you were living their lives instead. You want their happiness and not their problems--because, to you, it feels as though they have none."

Cor'lana blinks and turns slowly to Grandfather. "Wow," she murmurs. "Are... you speaking from experience there?"

A slight smile plays on Grandfather's lips. "I have no experience with good luck charms," he says, "but there was always that feeling of ennui that dogged me relentlessly when I was carousing with nobility. That is ultimately why I withdrew from them."

Slixvah's brows pinch. She polishes off her spoon, then clacks it against the table top. "I don't doubt my abilities," the witch points the spoon at him. Before cocking it back, and throwing it towards the kitchen without looking. The flies through the air, bonks against the wall, skips over a countertop and lands in the dirty dish pile by rattling into a cup. "I am good at what I do."

Her head tilts to the side. "With all due respect, handsome, this might be somethin' you ain't too familiar with. Lotta words you sayin' ain't what I'm feeling. Life has to have randomness, and bad luck. The longer I stay in one place, the more the luck gets wound up and up for everything and everyone. The more I'm around certain people, the same happens to them."

She crosses her arms. "My isolation and nomadic tendencies collide with my love for people in general."

She looks aside. "In short, I'm lonely. And I need ta know how to fiddle with the strands of fate to dampen this issue."

Grandfather's head quirks a little as he listens to Slixvah's rebuffal of his advice. Then he smiles widely. "Hmm, yes, you are right. I'm afraid I've projected and speculated in places where neither are typically welcome."

He folds his hands neatly onto the table. Both his plate and Cor'lana's plate are empty by this point--Pothy taking the bait quietly and listening, too. He hasn't piped up one bit, which is unusual for the raven familiar.

Cor'lana, meanwhile, blinks at the spoon going over her head. "Sounds like Telamon didn't get hit. You are good," she remarks, turning back to Slixvah. "So... You're dealing with a self-destructive behavior, essentially. Caught between what is and what you want."

She thinks. "What if there's something that, theoretically, would 'tie you down'? In the metaphorical sense. Like... You have people to take care of. Someone to come home to. A house you built, or a home you've changed to match your vision." It's almost clear what Cor'lana's thinking about in her own life as she looks at Pothy for the first, the decorative vines for the second, and her ring on the third.

Telamon steps back out of the kitchen, drying a dish with a towel. "I'm not sure it's as much a social problem as a magical one." Next to him, another dish hovers in midair, also being dried with a towel. "The way she describes it, from what I overheard, is that it's a side effect of her 'talent' as I like to call it."

His eyebrows rise as he looks as Slixvah. "Am I mistaken? Of course, that does leave you with the question of how to rearrange things to avoid it. I admit I'm not as educated on this sort of tephramancy to give lectures, but I guess the trick might be to try and balance the books as you go. Which means, of course, handing out dollops of bad luck to hopefully deserving people who should be doing better."

Slixvah bobs her head once, looking smug. "Your speculations are granted forgiveness," she hums, choosing her words carefully. Smart bird knows fey.

She glances to Lana. "I... suppose, yeah. I like nudging stuff around to make things work out for people. It's an undocumented form of magic that ain't been 'round a long time. But it has the consequence of, well, takin' all the lows outta life that make the highs better."

She squints a bit at Lana's suggestion. "... are you not listening to me?" she mutters, shaking her head as she pushes her leftovers towards the white plumed raven to consume. "Settling down, even just ta leave and come back, would cause th' same issue..."

However, whenever Telamon returns and offers his two copper, she perks up and runs a hand down her face. It slides off and thuds against the table. "Ugh, yes! He gets it," she points at the half-sil man. Eyes shining some as she's able to drop some jargon. "It's a magical side effect of this branch of witchcraft. Tephramancy kinda sorta, but it's more about fortunamancy. Literally twisting and bending luck. The underlying theory under it is that everyone and everything is woven together by a grand tapestry. And ya can pluck and snip stuff along the way to influence what's gonna happen next."

"In short, the tapestry fixes itself the longer I stay in one place." She rubs her beak. "... so... ya think I should just try an' curse people with bad luck? Hmm... kinda rude, but it might be necessary..."

Cor'lana looks immensely relieved when Telamon figures it out. And also a little embarrassed. "Tel might be brighter than I am when it comes to unfamiliar magics," she says. "Side effect of being a shut-in most of my life, I suppose."

Pothy just consoles Cor'lana by hopping onto her shoulder and nuzzling against her cheek. There there.

"Fortunamancy... I've never seen it in action before," Cor'lana mumbles. "How interesting. I didn't realize that was what you specialized in. But, bad luck happens to people every day. If you balance it out, it's just how it goes."

She grins. "I volunteer to be your first victim. Telamon can console me afterwards."

Telamon shakes his head. "I remember seeing a reference in Stefanson's Traveling At Night. I won't even pretend to be familiar with it." Having dried the dish, he sets the towel down, walking over to stand next to Lana. His hand touching her shoulder (the one unoccupied by Pothy). "But the alternative is not using your talent at all, and that's not only... well, it's denying part of yourself, but it can also be dangerous. These sort of energies demand an outlet."

He grins at Slixvah. "On the upshot, consider the times we live in. Surely there are low villains deserving the wrath of fate and bad luck out there. Now you have an excuse to go chase them down and make their lives miserable." His expression becomes pensive, thoughtful. "I'm not saying the path is easy -- nothing worthwhile ever is -- but I think if we put ours heads together we can untangle these threads."

Slixvah gestures towards Cor'lana. "Everyone's good at their own thing," she assuages before giving a grin as much as an Elagrin could. "I mean, that's what I do~ I make things coo' and smooth for when the times get rough."

She looks up to Telamon. Appraising. "I... think I read that one in Rune," she admits. "'course ya ain't familiar with it. Most folks don't wanna put the spooki magics down because it might corrupt, yet they'll summon devils to be their familiars. I don't get it."

Her eyes darken. "It does demand an outlet. I'm sure ya'll feel ya'lls skin tingle when ya'll ain't done some mojo in a lil while, no? Imagine that with me."

She looks down some, tilting her head to the side as a low sigh leaves her. "... you right. I guess I should focus mo' on bringing bad luck rather than nudging good luck. I don't mind the difficult path. That's been most of my life."

Finally, she regards Lana's offer. Shrugs slightly as she raises a finger that twirls around something unseen in the air. She pulls, and something snaps. "Das mtise," she chants.

It suddenly feels like Cor'lana woke up on the wrong side of the bed today.

GAME: Slixvah casts Ill Omen. Caster Level: 4 DC: 15
GAME: Ravenstongue rolls Spellcraft: (5)+12: 17
GAME: Telamon rolls spellcraft: (8)+13: 21

There's a bristling look in Grandfather's eyes for a moment as Slixvah casts something onto 'his child'--but it appears to be born of sheer instinct, and the elder fey just takes a deep breath.

"It's okay, Grandfather," Cor'lana reassures him. "But... Oooh, that spell's fun. Question is, do I murmur luck charms for a bit? Or should I just try to zap something?"

"If it helps Miss Slixvah," Grandfather says, "I'd imagine you'd want the bad luck to take its full course. I feel target practice is in your very near future, my child."

Slixvah raises a hand to Grandfather at the same time as Lana calms him. And perhaps, surprisingly she offers: "Sure. Zap me." Though her wings limp slightly. "Or you can do that. It'll get rid of it. Just a minor curse. I gots something worse, but I don't ruin your week."

She can't help but sit up straighter and preen a feather off her shoulder. "Yeah, Mista G is right. So go ahead."

She crosses her arms. "Zap me."

GAME: Ravenstongue rolls ranged: (4)+6: 10
GAME: Ravenstongue rolls ranged: (12)+6: 18

Cor'lana blinks. "... You sure?" she asks, although Grandfather getting the nickname of 'Mista G' might also be why she's blinking. "I'll use one of my weaker spells, at least..."

She gathers the magic in her hands, murmurs an incantation, and fires off what should be a mild amount of cold energy at Slixvah... But it misses. "That is effective," Cor'lana murmurs in shock. "That should have hit."

Telamon raises his eyebrows again. "Oh, I see how that works... clever. Very clever." He looks at Lana. "It's got a limited duration, though. Won't last long. And I think a basic counter-charm can temporarily negate it, but you keep having to make the charm till it's run its course." He smiles at Grandfather. "You too, hm? I twitched as well." His dark eyes twinkle wryly.

When Lana casts her spell, and the beam of frost zips past Slixvah, he nods. "Especially at this range, with someone sitting down and not trying to avoid it. What she's doing is... it reminds me of how divinations work when you're trying to predict the future. You try to weight the odds in your favor." He points at Slixvah. "That's what she's doing. Loading the dice, to keep borrowing the metaphor."

Who knows why that missed. Perhaps because it was Lana was aiming for center mass? Which is full of fluffy feathers? Which said feathers are missing in patches? Which said patches have holes in them?

Slixvah is unfazed as the ray passes through a patchy spot and thuds against the wall behind her. "That is how ya get rid of it." But, she smiles brightly as Telamon puts the pieces together. "Welcome to my philosophy. A single stone can fell a mountain. Ya just gotta give it a nudge in the right place. I play with loaded dice, so we don't have to gamble with life," she hums rising to her feet, smoothing her crown feathers back.

"I really appreciate ya'll lettin' me have lunch wit'chya'll. Gave me lots ta think about. Perhaps a direction now."

"Well, I volunteer to be your training target to run out all the bad luck," Grandfather comments dryly, before he looks to Slixvah and politely nods, smiling. "I appreciate that you enjoyed my lunch, and that Master Telamon could give you some guidance and some direction."

"Please feel free to come over whenever," Cor'lana says with a smile. "Just, err--don't bang the front door so loudly. I've gone and made an enemy of some powerful people, and that gave all of us quite a scare."

She points at Grandfather. "Except for him. He only gets scared of Telamon and I deciding we won't be having children at all."

"Perish the thought," Grandfather says in mock-dramatics.

Cor'lana snickers. "Have a lovely day, Slixvah."