Mother's Miasma
Log Info
- Title: Mother's Miasma
- Emitter: Cryosanthia
- Characters: Cryosanthia, Lily, Zeke, Un'eth
- Place: A10: Temple of Daeus
- Time: Wednesday, September 29, 2021, 1:37 PM
- Summary: Cryosanthia has been drained of mana enough that Zeke believes casting healing spells on her will succeed, although he warns they might be painful. Lily suggests Cryo could always replace her wing and tail with mechanical ones when they fall off. Cryo conceeds that is possible, but would like to try the healing first, and for Little Fang to visit the cafeteria while she does, as it's likely to be unpleasant. Un'eth is on hand to assist. Zeke casts several powerful healing spells, and channels divine healing, which is sufficient to force the dead remains of the Unraveller out of Cryo, and allows her to heal fully. Although, it is agonizing. Exhausted, the little white dragon is happy to have two functional wings and her tail once more. They have little time to celebrate before they are interrupted by a whirlwind commotion. Nonantzine, Zeke's mother, has come to tell him how unsuitable he is to sire offspring, and what female dares choose him. The female that dares, is in the room, and dislikes being ignored and seeing her mate abused. Zeke will not fight his mother, but Cryo is willing to get loud and physical, and does so. Zeke does stand up to his mother, but it is futile, and harsh words are said, causing him to feel. In the aftermath, the two women speak, and the female bluescale explains the difficulties she had raising Zeke, and that she doubts Cryo has it in her to suffer the same. Cryo has a lot of doubts, having lost her first foundling and nearly her second, but has other knowledge and perhaps a better self-awareness than Nonantzine. She's still left with a lot to think about, and while Lily returns, Zeke does not.
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=<* 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.
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-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- Appearing, in Order =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Cryosanthia 7'2" 391 Lb Dragon Female A sickly, white dragon with a crippled wing and tail. Zeke 6'8" 239 Lb Sith-Makar Male A blue-scaled sith-makar in white Daeus vestments. Un'eth 6'2" 275 Lb Sith-Makar Female An ebon-scaled female Sith-makar. -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--= -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- NPCs of Note -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Nonantzine Sith-Makar Female An enraged bluescale, Zeke's mother. -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=
Temple of Daeus Complex: Cryosanthia's recovery room in on of the minor buildings.
Cryosanthia has improved. The nethercite stones, blanket and batteries have drained her of excess mana, all mana perhaps. She no longer glows along her highlight scars. The arcanists were very impressed with her charging capabilities and asked if they could return. She politely declined, but an extra empty battery was left in case she needed to be hooked up.
Her wing and tail have not, the shrivelled areas spreading, affecting a shoulder and further up her tail. She's concerned, but hides it.
Lily is awake, and as she was, and won't leave her Ssassa's side, which suits Cryo just fine. She has caught the cabin fever however, and is more rambunctious than usual. This has expressed itself in excessive building. Her Kors-bow trap for aunti-nemesis has been contained to a corner of the room.
The pink-scale holds up a small, mechano dragon-wing for inspection. She pulls on a tiny rod, making it flex, "Ssassa! Ssassa! Look! For when wing fallss off."
There is a soft knock at the door before Zeke enters, his green eyes going immediately to Lily. They hover there for a moment as he moves into the room, carrying a tea service in one hand. No medicinal tea now, and there's some actual food on the tray as well. Biscuits and fruit. Jams and butter. Zeke moves to the table to set these things down and sits at Cryosanthia's bedside. "The wing will not fall off." Zeke says, offering more certainty than he feels. He looks at Cryosanthia. "Thisss one believesss that a full healing ssspell may resstore the limbsss... if you are ready to try sssuch."
Un'eth's presence was requested on Cryosanthia's behalf some days ago. Much more recently, Zeke sought her here, directly, albeit for a different matter. She is here, now, so ventures to the white one's resting room. She enters after Zeke, in time to catch mention of falling wings and blinks.
She received the impression that Cryosanthia was recovering, yet... ah, yes, Healer Lily is corrected by Zeke. A far better prognosis. "Peace on your nest," she offers in greeting.
Cryo sniffs, looking in the direction of the food and tea. Her appetite returned just fine. The hungry look is also hopeful, especially once Un'eth enters. "Shaman Un'eth! Peace on your nest. This one is very pleased to see you."
"And Lily, Zeke is right, it's not going to fall off. Plus that's much too small. Also, you didn't make anything for my tail."
"Iss a model! Real one bigger!" Little Fang states emphatically. She huffs, doesn't Ssassa understand the concept of prototyping? It's as if Ssassa is being deliberately obtuse. Still, there was that request, "Box, for sstorage. Keepss lunch in it."
The whitescale laughs, "I think someone is hungry. Thank you for the suggestions Lily, but that isn't falling off either." Even if it does, she's not packing a replacement with snacks to be nibbled on.
"I'm ready to try when you think is best, Zeke." Cryo adds.
Zeke rises as Un'eth enters the room, nodding low to her. "Peassce on your nessst." He offers to the female respectfully, and looks at Lily. "Thisss one would sssuggesst sssending Lily to the cafeteria then, there are many there to watch over her, and ssshe can get ssome-thing to eat while thisss one triess to heal you." He doesn't want to try a possibly painful procedure in front of the youngling.
"Ssa," Un'eth concurs with one or more things before noting, "It is good to see you both." She dips a claw into a pouch to produce a piece of candied bacon and offers it in Lily's direction. "Prey to grant you the energy to catch more..." That and possibly help entice her to seek more. A tasty, nourishing treat is not a bad thing. The sweet only adds allure, and there is nothing wrong with a bit of a sugar rush.
Especially if others are minding the youngling.
"Nooo, Blue, noooo." Lily says, dropping the wing and running over to grasp Cryo's talon-hand with both of hers.
"It's okay, Little Fang. This one is safe. We are in the Dragonfather's house. He watches over all of us. Go to the cafeteria, and see if you can find Hearthguard Seyardu."
"Nooo. Ssassa..." Lily protests, prompting Cryo to nuzzle her on the head, nose the earring hanging from her horn, and the broach holding the pinkscale's cloak. "Your aunties are watching over you, you'll be fine. This one will be fine."
Reluctantly, the little Kobold nods, picks up her model dragon wing, her tools... she's delaying. "Lily, this one will be here, and the sooner you go, the sooner you can come back."
So she does, making sure to take the candied bacon from Un'eth on the way out, "Thanssss."
The blue-scale waits patiently. Allowing the little youngling to make her way out the door, and then waiting even a little while longer for her to be on her way before turning to Cryosanthia. "Thisss one knowsss it isss difficult to be with-out her. Thisss one doess not wisssh for her to sssee you in pain however, and the lassst time thisss one casst healing magicsss upon one who wasss touched by the sssea of mana... it wasss effective, but painful." He reaches out and takes Cryosanthia's claw with his own. "Jussst nod when you are ready."
Un'eth cranes her neck out of the doorway for eyes to briefly follow the pink tail as it scampers down the hall. Afterwards, she steps to Cryosanthia's bedside, though opposite Zeke. He is her primary healer, as a start, and far more besides. She defers to him and his cihuaa, though is present to assist as she might.
Cryo likewise watches Lily vanish. She sighs and slumps, relaxing her mantle of good cheer. She's been sitting on the bed, on top of the nethercite blanket, with the white one that Aryia made wrapped about her like a makeshift sarong. It's the easiest clothing option for her quadruped form.
Big inhale, "Thank you for coming Un'eth, there was much this one wanted to discuss with you. Should I stretch out? Remove the sheet?" She squeezes Zeke's hand, gently. Even in this form he can recognize her nervousness.
"This one is ready for pain, Zeke."
"Only the nethercite would interfere, and it isss beneath you." Zeke's way of saying that he did not think that it would interfere with his prayers. He offers then a few words to the Dragonfather whom he serves. The words have the feel of long rote to them, but warmth as well. He glances skyward for a moment, and then the pulse of healing magics spreads through Cryosanthia's body from within his own. It is far stronger than anything she might have felt from him before. Proof that his own abilities in this arena have grown. He holds onto her claws so that she is not alone.
"We will share words after," Un'eth assures her. Her own scents are calm. She may be attempting to share that one or both (Zeke has smelled far too uncomfortable lately), or she is supremely confident in Zeke's abilities. Perhaps both. Un'eth is then quiet as the Dragonfather is beseeched.
The whitescale nods, and waits. Her body jolts as Zeke's ritual starts and she is enveloped by his power. Her talon-hand tightens, and he can feel how much more powerful she is in her current form. There's a grinding noise from her mouth, as her jaw clenches, and she makes a soothing thrumming noise, for herself, for the pain.
The prayer has a visible effect. Cryosanthia glows along all her highlight scales, spreading from Zeke's touch. This bright illumination dims in three areas, where she is in direct contact with the blanket beneath her, and at the edges of the shrivelled areas on her body. They seem to be producing some anti-magic effect also, devouring the mana, which the bluescale can feel as a heavy resistance.
Despite this apparent failure, cracks appear in the dead wing and necrotic area on her tail, glowing with inner energy. Cryo gasps, her voice shaking with pain. All talons which aren't holding his dig into the bed. "More Zeke, that's... ahh! That's what's pinning me."
Zeke's tail whips around behind him. A combination of anxiety and anticipation. He growls at the anti-magic effect that the limbs seem to be having, but he does not hesitate when Cryosanthia asks him to continue. He soothes her and continues forward. His prayer growing in tone and his stance one of determination. "That you ssee it in your eyesss to heal thisss one'sss cihuaa. In your holy name, thisss one beessechesss you; Dragonfather!" The power flows outwards from him a second time, spending the last of his ability to cast such powerful magics, and he prays it is enough.
Un'eth dislikes that Cryosanthia is in such discomfort, yet it is often, if not always, a part of the healing process. It is not Un'eth's place to comfort her in this instance, however, and as she watches Zeke's redoubling of his efforts, she believes that Cryosanthia is not the only one that would benefit from her cihuua's successful treatment. So she simply remains present and encouraging only by existence and proximity. Many wounds or ailments can only truly be treated by those afflicted.
"Ahhhhhhnnn.." Cryosanthia shudders in pain, her thrumming becoming very loud. Her cihuaa knows her pain tolerance, and how high it is after their many decades in the White Tower. She glows brighter, along her scars, along every incision that was made on her skin and within, feeling impulses of pain as something tears clear.
Her wing, her tail, begins to bleed around the glowing cracks. A black blood, no, some similar substance leaks from her, inky and thick, pooling on the bed. Even as the pools of them grow, they crust over and start to flake to grey, the way her scales were.
"That's... that's what was in her." Cryo gasps in recognition, small tears of blackness leaking from her eyes. "Keep... more Zeke."
Zeke is... having cast two of the three most powerful spells that he is capable of casting, a bit at odd ends. Nothing he has in his ability to cast can compare. Yet... Cryosanthia has asked it of him and if necessary he will deplete his ability to heal for the day if it comes down to it. A pulse of raw healing energy leaves him, washing over the entirety of the room. Then again. And again. His eyes are closed now, his mind focused inward to the spark that allows him to heal another.
Un'eth lifts one hand as Zeke pauses. It is only a moment before he renews his efforts further, and it is she who pauses. Whatever her intent or gesture might have been, it is proven unnecessary. Zeke has the matter, and Cryosanthia, well cared for in his claws.
Cryosanthia falls silent as her pain increases, even her thrumming is interrupted and intermittent. She squeezes tight on Zeke's hand, digging further into the bed as well. The black crud is forced out by the healing energies Zeke is applying. Her scales whiten completely as the contaminant oozes out of her patterns. The glow shifts to the damaged sections of her body, increasing, spreading into the shriveled sections which swell again, becoming whole.
The black drips from her wings and tail, the pools of it congealing around the nethercite blanket, then flaking away into nothing but wisps and ash.
Her cihuaa's efforts are successful, she is purged. With a quiet whimper she flexes both wings, folding, opening, then curls her tail in a way it hasn't moved in weeks. "Oh Zeke, yes, that's done it. Yes."
Then, "Ick. I need to get off the bed."
The blue-scaled male opens his eyes at Cryosanthia's words, noticing the blackened sickness that has congealed around the female he was healing. He chuffs softly at her and moves to help her off of the bed. It's a difficult process considering that she is much changed in her new form, but Zeke is a healer and he knows ways of helping her to get her to a position where he can move the blankets out from underneath her. "You look much better. How do you feel?"
Un'eth steps back from the bed now, to grant more room for limbs to be tested and Cryosanthia to dismount. "You do appear far more healthy, if still rather draconic." Yes, she notes the obvious.
Cryo is very eager to get off the bed, draping both forelimbs on Zeke's shoulders and stepping with her rear legs. Wings and tail conspire to lift the 'Cryosanthia' blanket with her and keep it out of the stain.
Once clear, she can stand, although she leans on Zeke. She's her normal height, perhaps slightly taller, though it's clear it isn't a comfortable stance for her. Before, she was able to walk on all fours with some awkwardness, and it appears she has switched constraints with her draconic form. Bipedalism is possible, but not comfortable.
She breathes vigorously, "Thank you Zeke! Thank you. This one feels much, much better." She hugs him, then stretches, finally looking at the bed again.
The black ooze is crusting up, looking like it might form a horrid stain, but otherwise becoming inert. She huffs, looking at it, then looks for a cloth to wipe her eyes, the rest of herself with.
"Un'eth, if you would remove the ssstained blanket?" Zeke requests, already getting into the cabnet to his side so that he can give Cryosanthia a once-over with a towel from within it. The cupboard contains a variance of different linens should the need of them arise, which is excellent since it seems that the need for them as indeed arisen. Zeke is careful, but complete in his careful scrubbing of Cryosanthia's scales, and when he is done he offers a clean blanket to Un'eth. "If you could replasce the old with thisss one? Thisss one thanksss you."
Un'eth would, can, and does remove the stained blanket, folding it to keep as much of the ichor within it as is reasonably possible. She moves the bundle near the doorway to set it down in favor of accepting the clean one. "Tend to yours and I will tend this..."
As Zeke scrubs Cryosanthia, she re-covers the bed with the blanket. So long as they don't expect too much in the way of housekeeping, all will be well. Un'eth has not dwelled in anything resembling a structure, much less a house, in centuries.
The nethercite blanket is undamaged. The black ooze seems to be preserved by its anti-magic properties, to a degree. It has to be scraped and wiped off. The regular fabrics that were stained have become brittle, as if it was bleached too strongly. It crumbles under the touch, leaving cloth dust and dried black flakes.
Cryosanthia drops to all fours while Zeke wipes her down. She's happy her tail and wing are restored, if her frequent movements of them is any indication. She can't fully extend her wingspan within the room, but keeps them stretched up to the ceiling when Zeke is done with them, then folded to her sides when he finishes there.
"Thank you, my love. This one feels one hundred percent better." Cryo says gratefully, watching as Zeke moves around her. Un'eth's efforts get some attention also. "Thank you also. This one hoped to speak to you about removing her costume."
Zeke hums softly, carrying the blanket used to clean Cryosanthia to the other dirty one and putting both in the dirty linen hamper. With these things out of the way he returns to Cryosanthia, nodding low to Un'eth for her assistance and offering to help Cryosanthia back into her bed. "If we can get you back in bed, you can have ssssome of the food thisss one brought. Though thisss one would caution againssst the ussse of magic to resstore your form ass of yet Cryosssanthia. You were jussst healed. And thisss one sssaw the pain it caussed. You are not ready for arcane magicsss to affect you jussst yet. Sssoon though." He tries to be reassuring, and he has hope enough to fill his words with it. Cryosanthia is healed, all else can wait.
"Ssa, rest now," Un'eth concurs with Zeke. "You did not appear comfortable, so I suspected your form is not as you desire? I will aid you, but after you have rested." She may happen to know a thing or three of shifting shapes. "Your healer and cihuua restored you." To whom her snout and eyes turn. "Proof he is neither broken, nor in need of repair." More statements of what, to her, are the obvious.
"Well I'm feeling a lot better now. I'm not uncomfortable, just..." Cryo trails off, how to explain that she feels as she does when she was Lucht-sized, everyone is a lot bigger, even if she actually out-masses them all and is longer. Her view remains one of legs, waists, rumps and tails. Her body awareness requires more attention, especially horizontal and it's difficult to see any distance.
Of course, in a room that hardly matters, but she also can't reasonable leave it without causing a stir. "This one is unusually self-conscious. It's feeling rather breezy, for example, even with Aryia's sarong. The interminable itch is gone, thank you Zeke, and Dragonfather."
As directed, she hops back up on the bed. It's a smooth motion, "I am feeling... numb. Everything aches. You're right, this one should rest. And this one agrees, Zeke is perfect."
She laughs, "Hopefully Little Fang will abandon attempting to make this one more like him."
A burst of embarassment and shame washes over Zeke and he ducks his head in response. "Thisss one thanksss you for your kind wordsss." He seems uncertain what to do with them however, choosing to ignore them as best as he is able, and returning his attention to Cryosanthia. "Ssshe worriesss for you Cryosssanthia. Fixing you, or making parts to fix you, isss all that sshe can do to make you feel better. Thisss one isss certain that sssshe will be happy to sssee you doing better."
Even as Zeke talks something of a commotion can be heard down the hall. Someone arguing with someone else. Not an uncommon occurrence in a place that doubles as a hospital but audible. Zeke ignores it flawlessly. He is not on-duty at the moment.
"Ssa," Un'eth agrees with all of their words, though not so much Zeke's nonverbal response. Her concern of another aspect only increases. The commotion draws only slight notice; she is not as accustomed to what is or is not normal here, but expects the Dragonfather's children can address is if if needs addressed.
Thus she continues her line of thought and shares further words. "One called Nonantzine visited Mictlan recently, in search of one from her clutch."
"You deserve them, my cihuaa. You always put me back together." Cryosanthia says, fixing her mate with a gaze. She paws lightly at the bed, which has held up under her onslaught and the damage is hidden by the new sheets. The whitescale experiments with curling up in different ways, to avoid lying on her belly as she has since she arrived. With tail and wings cooperating, other positions are possible, although she could do with a bigger bed.
Her earfins flick at noises in the hall, but these are overlooked. The curl at the edges of her mouth wavers, the Temple of Daeus is not an impregnable refuge, but she isn't hearing the commotion she'd expect if there was a demonic presence.
Although, that name makes her tense. "This one thought she was exiled. She should not seek him." She immediately looks at Zeke.
Zeke's ears perk at the sound of his nest-mother's name and a dread chill climbs up his spine. He glances toward Cryosanthia and sighs. "Thisss one meant to tell you when you were feeling better. Ssshe ssent thisss one a letter. Ssshe isss very upssset that thiss one isss-"
"YOU WILL NOT STOP THIS ONE FROM SEEING THIS ONE'S SON!" The loud yell from down the hall makes Zeke instantly cringe and a moment later there is the door being opened. It crashes into the wall and a rather beleagured looking man is backing away from a snarling sith-makar female who imperiously makes her way into the room. Her eyes slide over those gathered and settle on Zeke with what can only be described as... hate.
Zeke shrinks away from the woman and she immediately moves toward him like a shark circling an injured seal. "What is this that this one has heard about you choosing a cihuaa? Where is she?" The female smells of anger and outrage. She outright stinks of hateful emotions, they waft about her like a miasma.
"Non-" Zeke starts valiantly in spite of his fear and she /screeches/ at him.
"THIS ONE IS YOUR NEST-MOTHER HAVE RESPECT!"
All of it sets Cryosanthia off. Her agonizing recovery from the Sea has left her weak, the pain of the last dregs of the Unraveller leaving have left her on edge. Her heart wrenching worry over Little Fang, and the sacrifice that was necessary to get her back.
Now her mate, her cihuaa is being threatened. The one who sustained her, who knows her better than anyone. Whom she knows better than his own mother, having seen things in him that finally came to fruition, which she still refuses to see. Her promise, her hope for a nest.
As he cowers instinctively, his scents of fear searing into her, mixing with the miasma the other bluescale brings, her own instincts engage. She is still bruised and handicapped, but the call reaches down to her core and awakens the Tyrant there, the Egg-Watcher. The Nest-Mother.
This is her room. This is her space. She roars, "GET OUT!"
The little white dragon rises ominously on the bed, horns brushing the ceiling, wings spread from wall to wall. "YOU INVADE MY SPACE! THIS ONE CHOOSES ZEKE! THIS ONE IS LOUDER AND LARGER. YOU WILL NOT THREATEN OUR NEST!"
Ah, Ssa, that would be the one. She may or may not have been more ..congenial when Un'eth last encountered her. Likely not as loud, though the choice of name raised Un'eth's hackles then, regardless of whether her hackles were actually manifest at the time.
A number of possible responses are tasted and evaluated on her tongue when Cryosanthia rises. Roars. As it was Zeke's place to heal Cryosanthia, Un'eth believes it is Cryosanthia's to protect Zeke. They are cihuua. He is healer. She is a very annoyed dragon. Un'eth has yet decided what the other blue is, precisely.
As before, Un'eth shall be present to support and share her words as needed.
The blue-scaled female puffs up, looking at Cryosanthia with distaste. "Are you going to let her talk to this one like that Maskurwarayuslih?" Just the sound of his name in her voice makes any amount of fight that Zeke had gained by hearing Cryosanthia's words dissipate into nothingness. The female moves forward and grabs Zeke's arm, pulling him toward herself.
Zeke can not, or perhaps will not fight the female, and he moves bonelessly in her grasp, not even flinching when her claws dig into his arm. He's fallen to the instincts that kept him alive for a century all those years gone by. Making himself small so that he does not upset her. Making himself unobtrusive.
"He can not /give/ you a nest." The blue-scaled female says sternly, yanking on her son to pull him away from Cryosanthia. "He is /broken/."
Cryosanthia was hoping for more, but at least the yelling has stopped. For the moment. Her cihuaa cringing and shrinking in on himself drives needles into her heart. Why will this woman not see?
"Nonantzine," The little dragon says, lowering herself to the bed, then hopping to the floor. She's agile enough in her form she doesn't face-plant. She stands, supporting herself with one talon-hand on the bed.
She is still a huge presence, a white tower. She slaps with a wingtip at the bluescale's wrist, to get her to release her son's. "That is not his name. He has chosen another."
"And he is not broken." She states emphatically. "Why do you insist on ruining him?"
Her scents are angry, protective. There is a threat to her nest and she is ready to interpose and protect Zeke should his nest-mother turn violent. The whitescale is willing to try words first, that is her calling after all, but her body assures her, it can fight, if she must. The others can smell that from her.
The little smack against her wrist makes the blue-scale female puff up even more, growling at Croysanthia. "You do not know what you speak of! Did you watch him wiggling like a worm as a child? Help him for a centry because he could hardly move? This one is the one that did /every-thing/ for him!"
Zeke burns with shame, his eyes on the ground, remembering his childhood with too-vivid memories. He can say nothing in his own defense. These are all things that he has heard his whole life, and listening to them listed now to the woman who had accepted him in spite of his failings is like being torn apart.
"Then he ran away! Left this one when this one needed him most! Changed his name, but this one has not forgotten who he is! How can he care for any-one else when he can not care for him-self?" She snorts and pulls Zeke further away from Cryosanthia, ignoring the sting on her wrist and digging her claws deeper into Zeke's arm. The sith-makar sensitive nose could easily pick up the moment she bleeds him, but Zeke doesn't even react to it.
"You will release him!" Cryosanthia can barely walk herself, not on two legs. It's more a hop-hop, with her tail dragging heavily on the ground behind her, to balance and keep her upright. A movement possible only because of her cihuaa's healing.
"This one saw him care for her, for almost a century, every time that woman sliced me to pieces." She growls, wielding their truth like a weapon, "stand up to a god!"
She ends up face to face with the bluescale, Zeke's blood searing in her nostrils. She snarls, "You hurt him now! You're a Bad Mother!"
Cryo curls a talon around the Nonantzine's wrist, keeping her claws form her scales, but still squeezing with all her considerable strength. "He cares for all now! He would care for you if you let the scales fall from your eyes. See him for what he has become!"
Her Egg-watcher training throws thoughts towards her mouth, which she snarls forth, "You sat on your nest too long! Your instincts drove you insane and still do. This one will not let you harm one you claim you are protecting! He is not the sin you imagine from your cursed egg-chamber."
GAME: Zeke rolls will: (7)+12: 19
Something that Cryosanthia says awakens Zeke. Reminds him that he is standing here doing nothing while these two females fight over him. "Enough." He says quietly. So quietly, and it's entirely unheard, but he says it louder. "Enough!"
"How dare you speak to this one in such a way! What younglings have you raised to say such things to this one?" She growls at Cryosanthia, ready to launch her own words at the white-scaled female, but Zeke is pulling out of her grasp. Not caring that it bleeds him more. He needs her to not touch him any longer. She stares at his defiance and there's violence in her gaze. The promise of hurt.
Zeke steadies himself, meeting that promise of hurt with his own blank calmness. "Thisss one will not be hurt any-more. Thisss one iss no longer a hatchling."
"She insults this one and you defend her? How dare you! You are nothing! You will always /be/ nothing." Zeke can't help but flinch at her verbal assault, but he does his best to stand in the face of it. At least until the blue-scale female launches herself at him bodily. Trying to beat him down with her claws. "WORTHLESS! BROKEN! USELESS!"
"SILENCE!" The whitescale lurches, interposing herself between Nonantzine and Zeke. She will not think of him by that other name. She drove him off when she suggested she was the broken one. They are both... mostly better. Now, she takes Zeke's role, as he tried to stave off her own fury against Braelnoir.
Although, he is still the one bleeding when the females fight.
"THIS ONE SPEAKS TRUTH." The whitescale shouts, facing the wild mother. Her training and her instincts war within, deescalate, separate, give her time is what she knows is the better plan. DEFEND HER NEST! Her body demands, with empowered instincts and all the negative traits of white dragons coming to the fore.
"Did you bite his limbs off when he was born? Crush his egg? Lie with a forgotten?" Cryosanthia demands. She has never questioned her cihuaa about his youngling days, but there must be something behind his mother's fury. She flings words, to get the bluescale female to focus on her, even though her approach is scattered, accusing her, praising him, escalating and de-escalating at the same time. "Does he remind you too much of his Sire? You are not the first to be abandoned or attacked by your mate."
She will not answer regarding her own younglings, though she knows the scars there. "This one is Egg-Watcher trained to recognize a mother that is a threat to her own nest! Calm the Maugrim-mating down!"
The words, most unfortunately, only seem to enrage the woman further. Zeke, is beyond shocked, the words an outpouring of the worst thoughts of his own mind through the years. To hear them from another's mouth is... crushing. To hear them from Cryosanthia... Is this what she thinks of him? He can not bear to hear another word.
Suddenly in a move that surprises everyone in the room - including himself - he shoves his way past both the females and - runs. Flees as quickly as he can out the door.
The blue-scale female who he had shoved aside glares at Cryosanthia."Look what you have done!" She says pointing at the door from which Zeke just exited. "How dare you speak to his mother like that! You have no right. Now you've gone and upset him. My poor Maskurwarayuslih..." She croons to herself, turning to leave and chase after her son.
Scales!
Zeke's sudden departure shocks the whitescale. Once again, things she has said has driven him to leave her. This stabs deep into a fear she has kept hidden, that he will leave her again. She keeps hurting him without meaning to. She loves him and she is bad for him.
Just like Nonantzine.
The realization leaves her cold. Her fury drains away. Focus Cryo, say the words that must be said.
"No," she says calmly, her voice soft, her weight on the bluescale's arm as she holds herself up and prevent her rushing out. "We have upset him."
"This one offers apologies, you are correct this one should not speak to his Nest-mother as she has. This one is his cihuaa, and you owe her words."
She lowers her head, her tone gravely serious, "tell this one why you think he should not have a nest. What did you struggle with, after he hatched? What lies ahead for this one?"
Finally, she pleads, in the hopes it will keep the woman here, "What went wrong?"
Surprisingly, it's a long conversation. With Zeke not in the room, his mother is a much calmer person. It's as if his presence riles her and she explains. Explains the constant hardships of raising a child who is different than other children. Her constant battle to keep him safe from the jungle. To keep him away from other sith-makar who might /treat/ him as different. How much it hurt her when he left suddenly without explanation. How she'd... withered in his absence. He'd been her life, and then he'd been gone.
She explained in more complicated terms that she worried that her son would bear offspring like himself. Or worse. That in his struggles as a child she'd never believed him capable of tending a nest. Much less a nest like she herself had endured.
Never once does she admit to hurting him. Never once does she express anything but loving care for her child. It's a strange dichotomy that Zeke has lived with for the whole of his life.
Then, she leaves, warning Cryosanthia that having a nest with her son is the wrong choice. That she should send him home to her nest. That it would be best for everyone. She is certain that she is right. No amount of argument nor words of wisdom can sway her from this viewpoint.
Zeke, does not return that night.
Cryosanthia listens. She recognizes when it is a time to do so, and now is one. Her heart twists as she hears about Nonantzine's struggles, her fears. They speak to her. She has not laid eggs, but in other regards her raising of her foundlings allows her to relate. The bluescale's worry echoes in her own.
She nearly lost both, and only didn't because of a massive sacrifice. Her confidence in her own abilities as a nest-mother is not strong. Nonantzine's experiences eat at her.
Perhaps some of what she voiced were her own fears of how she might react to a tainted nest, an attempt to understand what Zeke's mother has gone through, and what would push herself to such a state.
She is left with no doubts that the bluescale's love is genuine, but also is not fooled by the omissions, the willful blindness of the other female to see her own faults, and not see the triumphs of her son. There's something to build on, but she can't be trusted...
Not yet.
When Zeke fails to return, she wonders if she can trust herself. These thoughts grow until she is interrupted by the return of her foundling.
"Where's Blue?" Lily asks, coming into the room and carrying cake. She's eaten some of it on the way, it was an arduous journey, but she still brings some for Ssassa.
Cryosanthia summons a cheerful demeanor, "He's resting! He'll be back. Look Lily, both wings. You'll have to make the rest of the mechanical dragon to go with the wing you already made."
"Tailsss?" The pinkscale asks.
"This one's tail is fine." Her heart, her spirit, her body overall, not so much, "You'll have to make a tail for it too. Come, up. This one will protect."
And hopefully not smother. Cryosanthia watches the door all night long.
