One Moment Out of Many

Log Info

• Title: One Moment Out of Many
• Emitter: Aryia
• Characters: Aryia, Venom
• Place: Fernwood Pub, Aryia's Rented Room
• Time: September 17th, 2021
• Summary: Within a dim room at the Fernwood, Aryia and Venom are spending simple time together, the former working on writing, the latter on firearm matienance. Their conversation starts out light, chatting about what the normally veiled woman was working on, as well as some stories of Aryia's past. She shares about one particularly bad one, which explains how scarred she was, and Venom was quick to pull her out of that spiral. A few tender moments are shared, and the two make plans for dinner.

Fernwood Pub, Aryia's rented room, roughly midday. 

Aryia is sitting at her desk, in the soft light of her room, scribbling away on a stack of papers. A careful ear could hear her barely speaking the words as she wrote, her other hand keeping a tome open. She wasn't exactly absorbing the information, but she was practicing her Tradespeak. It's through this that she's had any progress in retaining her literacy.

She's dressed down like before, just in a long sleeved shirt and pants. Something she doesn't mind too much as she stretches out up to the sky, flashing her scarred midriff, and finishing with a satisfied sigh. The table that had all the sewing supplies was now cleared, all of them moved into the wardrobe, tided up a bit since last time.

She looks over at the other in the room, seeing how they're doing.

For her part, Venom is sitting cross legged on the floor in the corner, down to her trousers and shirt that she wears under the rest of her accoutremants.

What seems to her gunsmithing tools are fanned out to her left, and assorted components about the right proportions of the weapon she'd sacrificed in their underground venture. The rest of her stuff is lining the wall to her right.

She'd started working about the same time Aryia began her studies, chiming in with advice or corrections as need be. Her smile was light when she spoke.

A wire brush currently works it's way around the surfaces of a gold band inset with a smaller one of copper, traced in strange formulae. It's the sixth of a hald dozen such components she's fitted, etched and brushed since the two begane their respective projects.

She brings it up to her lips and gives it two sharp puffs to blow away any remaining contamination, then looks over it to smile again to Aryia, "How's it coming?" she wonders curiously.

Aryia was thankful for each mote of advice, her giving a shy smile and ducking her had back to resume her study. She had to keep herself from staring at her work, curious and impressed by how Venom could keep track of the complexity of such a thing.

At the question, she slips out of her chair, takes a couple of padding steps towards the bed, and lays supine on it over the side to watch.

"Good," she finally answers with a hand, shimmery eyes gliding over every piece of artifice. Then along the hands that work it, and the arms. Then the face. Before growing embarrassed and forcing her attention back to the work being done on the floor with a rubor on her visage. It didn't feel real, like the other night was a dream. "So what are you doing now?" she wonders. Foreign to the process, but curious all the same. <Handspeech>

"I'm finalizing the..." Venom starts, pausing for a moment, the subtle shifts in her expression perhaps indicative of a search for an suitably concise descriptor in their common language.

She shrugs a little, then says, "In Kulthian, they're called Zhaf-sic-heyan." tapping a finger against the ring.

She sighs, looking slightly bemused, "If Trade has a word for them, I have never heard it. They use forces, similar to a lodestone, to push and pull the projectile along the barrel." The 'barrel' being the violet glass(?) tube she points the brush toward, "Like passing a bucket in a fire brigade. Each pass makes it travel much faster, so by the time it leaves the barrel, it's fast enough to carry out and strike with significant force."

She gently sets the ring on her work cloth, "The mechanics have some tolerances, but the Zhaf-sic-heyan I use really need to be as crisp and precise as possible when installed."

She swallows a bit, clearing her throat, as it's probably been a while since she's said quite so much all at once, then she leans forward, cocking her head as she rests her elbows on her knees, "Taking a break?" she smiles.

Aryia lets her legs lightly kick behind her as she props her head up on her hands. There's a tilt one way, then another. It's very, very obvious most of the explanation is understood. But not comprehended. She just smiles, mostly listening to the sound of Venom's voice.

Even going so far as to try and repeat 'Zhaf-sic-heyan', but gets tongue tied about halfway through. "I got about half of that," she motions. "But it looks like a lot of work. That's... really neat you know how to do all that. I'd be so lost..."

The elf bobs her head. "Yes, I can only do so much writing, my hand is cramping up." To punctuate, she raises a scarred arm and rolls the wrist around. One that she uses to reach out from her perch and pat Venom atop the head.<Handspeech>

Eyes lifting to consider the kicking feet a moment, a tiny furrow blooms in V's brow as she may be trying to put it together, then seek her face as Aryia takes the Kulthian word out for a spin.

With the invocation of gestural speech, V's eyes turn to the new priority and she nods, "He thought the craft was going to of great use as things advanced, so he made sure we understood it enough to use in his name." discussing 'Him' seeming much easier than it had been nights past.

"Oh, well perha-?" the Acanian starts, breaking off with a pursing of her lips, and her eyes cross as they look up to the wrist over her head, "... ahhh.... haps I can help?"

Aryia gives a closed eye smile, her continuing the gentle gesture, smoothing out the silk black hair with the flat of her hand. "And now you can use it in your name, instead, V," she points out warmly. Driving a wedge between the worries of what was and the unexplored wonders of what is now.

She tilts her head to the side. "Uh, sure?" The shadow elf rolls over on her back, head dangling off the side of the bed as the outstretched arm shifts from head to the space in front of the unmasked enigma. She pulls the sleeve up, showing more of the grey, scarred skin. So... so many scars. <Handspeech>

Venom nods thoughtfully, "Yes, that's true." she replies, her expression brightening a touch. Her hands lift to carefully take Aryia's, her hands gentle at first, as she starts to lightly knead at the soft tissues of the MUl'niessa's hand. Her eyes roam from scar to scar, even as she relies on her sense of touch to warn of any wince or knot of undue tension.

"We trained very hard. We did this for each other a lot." she says absently, "It sometimes hurt, but it felt better, after."

She swallows a bit, then, "Does it hurt, Aryia...?" she asks gently.

Aryia's arm is not only tough from the scars, but also from the amount of physical work she puts herself through on the near daily. Her hand was not better, almost all of it calloused. Scars ranged from cuts and pokes, slashes and gouges, as well as abrasions centered around her wrists. She nods along as Venom idly explains, moon colored hair just barely touching the floor from her upside down perch.

Her breath hitches a bit, face wincing in pain, but soon a soft sigh comes afterwards. "... a bit, but it feels nice..." she gestures to the other, eyes half lidding. <Handspeech>

Venom nods, the smile at her lips holding, though her eyes seem a little instrospective. She could be cataloguing every blemish, every sin against her friend's body, but she doesn't remark upon them.

A sigh, "I'm sorry, It might hurt in spots, a little... I'm trying to keep it from being a lot though." she relates softly, feeling the need to be clear, even though she's sure it'll be better in the end.

Aryia was slowly relaxing as her friend works out the knots in her hand. There's little winces here and there, but she doesn't indicate any stopping. Perhaps the pain of a knot was nothing compared to what she's used to tolerating. "It's fine. You're fine," she motions, eyes slowly opening to just settle on Venom's visage.

She saw where the dark eyes were looking. And her visage smooths out to a soft smile. "... you can ask about them. It's okay," a hand motions gently, it reaching out to graze along an arm that was helping her. <Handspeech>

Venom continues her work with a little nod, "If you're certain." she replies softly.

SOme seconds pass, and she carefully turns the wrist to start working on the other side of the hand between the tendons leading to the fingers.

She turns her attention to one particularly squirrely scar on the smokey arm before her and starts with a simple, "This one, near your elbow, who did this to you?"

Tendons flex and stretch, those not being worked on lightly curl around the hand in hers. Aryia turns back over and crawls forward, slipping out of the bed carefully as she moves to sit on the floor right beside Venom, yet not disturbing any of laid out machina. Still her hand was in Venom's grasp, and that's all that mattered.

Her eyes go down to the scar, unfocusing somewhat as she tries to rack her memory. "I... think I got that when I was... fifty. Before I lost my voice. The... woman who owned me did not like how I being slow walking. So she used some scissors to..." Aryia drags a finger across the scar, where a tendon wavers underneath. Such a wound would leave the arm unusable for a time. She explains it calmly, like a distant memory. And it helped that she was close to the other. <Handspeech>

Venom seems... troubled by the description, but less in a state of horror, than one of befuddlement, though certainly empathetic.

"He... would not compromise so much function, " pain was probably still on the menu, "for something so... minor."

The hand massaging the outermost tendons, breezes up along the arm to gently trace the particular furrow in her friend's flesh, "I'm sorry she did that to you."

Aryia simply reaches up to smooth out Venom's hair to ease her troubles. "Unlike you, there was thousands of me. If I was doing bad, I could be sold. And I was. A lot," she gestures in front of them before finding a lock of ebon hair and toying with it. Her cramping hand was relaxing further, as did the elfmaiden as she leans against Venom. "It's okay. There were a lot of people that owned me. I was... sold many, many times. Especially when I was young. I don't... remember much of my first few decades. It's all a blur. I... don't even know my actual name. I made this one up a few years ago," the pugilist just... signs. Talking like they usually do. Sharing. About their past. In the moments that kept going. <Handspeech>

Venom doesn't shake her head, though there was probably the very start of the motion before Aryia's gentle touch to her hair quelled it, "He could always make another like me. The metal" speaking of venom... "always made sure we knew that."

Her eyes cross some as she watches the slender steely fingers twirl about with her lock, and whatever darkness bubbled within her erods to a more innocent curiosity.

She nods and her hands resume the massage of her friend's hand after a brief squeeze, "Was... she the worst?"

Ahem, "It's a good name. It's short, and it has a nice sound... and it's yours."

The metal. Aryia would have to ask about that later. When there was more talks. Her hand gives a squeeze back, "I'm glad they didn't make another than," she gestures back, still smiling warmly up at the larger woman. She nods, and gives a bit of a playful smile. "It is mine. It's also all the sounds I can't make, so its difficult sometimes."

The elf does go a bit lost in her head for a moment before shaking her head. "No. The worst was B-A-L-D-R-I-N. He was my last owner. He bought me after I got my throat cut. And he threw me in fighting pits. To fight... everything. I had to learn, on my own, in there." Her signing hand tightens into a fist. "I did that. For over forty years, V. Thrown into one terrifying match again. And again. And again."

She hangs her head, trying to not delve too deep into the dark. "I stopped caring about getting my voice back. But that was the only time I wished I could scream."

The menagerie of scars that littered the free mul'neissa, finally, make sense. <Handspeech>

Venom watches, her eyes holding to the taleful hand as it goes through the motions, her expression loses it's earlier innocence, eroding into a blank, almost bleak introspection.

Her eyes lower for a glance between them, then, she rocks forward up onto her knees, crossed feet splaying to some extent for a moment to support her precarious balance. She rocks to one hip and swings the other foot around and forward to slap flat against the floorboard, over the workcloth, before the gentle grip firms up, just a bit, to draw the Mul'niessa into what should begin as a one armed hug.

She understands now, the world her confidante was forged in, it's alloy, it's temper.... and in time may understand more fully even what drove the monster that cast her.

Tender words, but of limited selection issue in a warm breath to Aryia's ears, "I'm here...." Small words, perhaps, but true, and she understands how comforting they are.

Aryia, as much as she tried to not slip into the dark, she did get lost on her way down there. The mul'neissa was blankly staring down, dulled eyes glancing to one thing in space, then to another. A hand running over her exposed arm, fingers trailing in such a way that it went over a number of the scars in one motion.

She did not register Venom shifting. But what broke her out of her reverie was being pulled into an embrace. And her ear twitches with a gentle tap against the other's lips. She was there. Aryia sucks in a breath, having not realized she wasn't drawing any. She buries her face into V's shoulder, her using her hand to tap the human's sternum with her thumb a few times, with an intermittent flick of her fingers. "I'm fine, I'm fine, I'm fine, it's okay." <Handspeech>

Venom holds her yet, her other hand relinquishing the grip on Aryia's hand to cradle the smaller woman's head to her shoulder, as it's where she wants to be. There's a novel sensation, as the Mul'niessa's ear flicks against her lips, and something in the back of her mind puts a proverbial pin in that for later, for now, more important things await.

The thumb taps against her sternum, but her embrace, while tender, doesn't relent, either in skepticism, or simply out of desire to make sure, who can say. She leans her head against the pale pate and she starts to massage the back of her head with thumb and fingers.

Aryia was already relaxing into the hold as she was all but swept up into it. The warmth, the comfort. All things she was deprived of. All things she would gladly accept. Especially from someone she trusted. It looks as if she was about to gesture something further off to the side, but that sign dies out as Aryia all but slackens in the hold. She reaches up, nudging fingers slightly to get in the right spot before being perfectly content blissing out.

She snakes a hand up to rest on the back of Venom's head, holding them gently with her fingers lost in the raven locks.

Venom's eyes close as the hand curls against her head, he gentle guidance earlier warranting a note to focus on that precise spot in the future. Her breathing is slow and steady, and her embrace is tender, and, after the silent gap, repeats, "I'm here..."

Aryia makes no movement to pull out of the hold for a solid couple of minutes. Soaking in affection that she had been lacking decades of. It's even difficult to tell if she was even awake from it, were it not for the hand against the head gently scritching.

Pulling back slightly with a new breath of life, Aryia blinks a few times to refocus her shimmering eyes. A warm, relaxed smile crosses her features, and she bring a hand up to cup the human's cheek. She leans forward so the wind could whisper a soft, "Thank you," to her before a parting peck is left on their cheek.

Aryia sits there, just watching Venom for a moment, her quite relaxed. A thought crosses her, and she glances down, then back up. "... the ones on my back are pretty crazy," she mentions. Something she was not comfortable showing most others, but would be fine with just them. <Handspeech>

Venom has an easy, almost dreamy smile on her face as she is guided into the position Aryia wants, and it broadens with an automatic rosiness at the cheek on the peck, "You're welcome."

The unveiled woman seems content with the nature of things for the time being. She does take a spark of curiosity at the Mul'niessa's offer about more scars. She wasn't certain even broaching the matter further, even with her assurances was appropriate, but if they're being put forward, maybe she's ok to ask, "What happened, there...?" in a soft voice.

Aryia holds up a hand as she turns around in her spot, a fist held off sideways. She flicks it a few times through the air. "Whip." There was no lingering or fear of delving back into the dark. It was a simple fact. One that she wanted to shared. She reaches behind herself, grabs the scruff of her shirt, and pulls it up and off.

Before Venom was a canvas of light grey swath of broad scars, where the skin had split and healed over numerous times. Her back looked like a large series of hatch marks, only to bleed away to the regular scarring on the backs of her arms and her neck. There was a fresher gouge scar on her flank, as the only thing that obscured the view of the corded back was a chest wrap.

"Crazy, right?" Aryia motions off to the side with a hand, her keeping the mood light. <Handspeech>

Venom's eyes hold steady as Aryia decides to take a more illustrative route to illumination. The human rocks back and pushes up to her feet, letting her kneecap have some r&r for the moment.

She steps forward, brows knitting as she surveys the damage; a tapestry of cruel discipline. Layered like an onion... or... one of those Myrrish parfait things. More like an onion though... layer count... the tears...

Work calloused fingers alight at the outside peak of a shoulderblade, but, lacking a way to funnel all the tangents into a simple question, she answers a simple, "Yes..."

Aryia rises as Venom does as well, her tossing the shirt over onto the bed while the other got a good look. She waits patiently. Seeing if there was any questions or worries that get brought up. But instead she gets a warm hand on her back, a sensation that makes her stand up a bit straighter. She leans into the hand. Her eyes grow a little downcast, yet her smile remained, even though it was difficult to see from this angle. "I just wanted you to see so you wouldn't be surprised later," she gestures in front of herself. <Handspeech>

Venom's hand slowly trails across the sculpted contour of the shoulder, fingertips breezing along the interlacing lines of the scars, "You've been used badly." she notes in a solemn tone.

"But... " she sounds less certain of her apprasal even as she speaks it, "you can... take humor in it...?"

The human makes another near silent step, and her other hand alights on the oppsing shoulder, as she stands so close, her forearms run almost parellel to slope of the Mul'niessa's back "You're... very strong."

There's a faint shiver that trails down her spine as the fingers graze along the scars of her past. Aryia takes a breath. "... Had them for so long, all I can do-"

Her hands pause as she feels Venom right up against her. Face growing crimson, she leans back into the larger woman. "... I have to be. Else... I've already been down else. I don't want to go there again."

Her head tilts back to look up at Venom. "You're strong too, you know?" she asserts, finishing by reaching up brush the back of her hand along a cheek.<Handspeech>

Perhaps oblivious to the effect she's having, or at least the full implications, Venom maintains her position, her fingers curled gently to encompass the wrongfully retextured shoulders. Her trailing foot pivots slightly as Aryia leans back into her by reflex, assuming a posture of reinforcing stability.

She shakes her head slightly as Aryia looks up at her to ask her return, "No I'm not.... I removed my marks... " She colors and looks sidelong at the floor, and a certain anxious tension suffuses her arms, as she weakly tries to justify herself, "They... compromised... my function."

Aryia reaches up, picking both the hands up for a moment before turning back around to face Venom and replacing them back where they were. Yes, even front of the shadow elf was scarred and marred. She gives a soft sigh, reaching up again, but this time gently cup Venom's cheek like so many times before. "Scars are not signs of strength," she motions with her free hand. "Strength is what's in here," she pokes Venom on the sternum, just over the beating beast, then up to her forehead, poking it with the same digit. "And here. You're strong for getting through all of that. For realizing your worth. For getting here. For..."

Her face dusts red as she looks aside, but resumes the gaze upwards. "... for giving me a chance." <Handspeech>

Venom's eyes lower to survey the tales of woe etched into her friend as she turns, and the hands, once returned, give a gentle squeeze to the shoulders.

Her head lists into the cradling hand, though it's only some moments after that supporting warmth heats her cheek that the obsidian pools can bring themselves to meet Aryia's eyes. Unlike before, they do not cross to follow the hair up their center of focus, they lower toward the signs her friend is putting forward.

Her expression, earnest for the honesty she puts forth in their private moments, bely the various gears of her mind meshing and slipping and switching anew to parse the concept being put forth. And, perhaps due to her youth, even putting aside the puny time spans her race are afforded in comparison, it's uncertain whether she can properly grasp it so quickly.

Her eyes seek Aryia's face as her signing falters, and noticing the blush, her lips part even whilst her brows lift and the signs are taken up once more. Certain sprockets drop into mesh like Gnomish clockwork, it's written in the cast of her features, as she leans in to gently, lingeringly, kiss her dear friend's forehead, before she answers "You earned it."

Aryia blinks as Venom draws nearer, the gentle affection causing the dust of red to bloom further out across her face. "... I don't know how, but I guess I did..." she says with small gestures, as if she was mumbling. There's a pause, then subtle riposte in the gesture; Aryia standing up on her tiptoes to deliver the same on upon a jaw.

She silently giggles. "Thank you for accepting me." <Handspeech>

The unveiled enigma starts to reach for the hesitant hands, when Aryia's new inspiration surprises her. She blinks momentarily, then a fond, relaxed smile blooms across her features.

She watches the giggle, and her latest words, and she leans down toward the Mul'niessa, as her hands curl lightly around the rounded slopes of her shoulders.

"You endured. You escaped all on your own, and you're taking hold of who you mean to be."

Her head lists to the side, though on this, she is acting on certainty. Accounting for other features that may get in the way.

Once more, lips seek lips, though the initiator this time has changed.

Aryia blinks as Venom swoops down closer, her smile evening out some in surprise. The hand on Venom's face slides to hold the back of a head. Breath stilled. "... t... th-n-" she starts to hiss out before being silenced.

She leans forward, eyes fluttering closed as an arm loops loosely around Venom's back. Slowly melting into the tender gesture, and making no move to pull away.

Venom holds there for some time, lips melting against the others. One hand slides down and around the smaller woman's back in a caressing half spiral to the pinch of her elvish waist, even as the other moves inward, thumb breezing along the collarbone until the caress of her fingers follow the sweep of her neck upward, tips tracing the line of her spine into the white hair above.

Under the sliding hands, Aryia shivers a bit like before, fingers curling into the back of the other's shirt. The hand supporting V's head slides out and thread through silk black hair to cup a cheek. She relaxes in the embrace, taking a few more of those constant moments before pulling away to gain an iota of fresh air.

She smiles, and gives out a shaky breath. The hand on the other's back slides up their frame, stopping on a shoulder so Aryia could lean past and faintly whisper in that errant breeze. "That was nice," it says before she buries her burning face into other's shoulder. Relaxed, and comfortable.

Venom's shirt is sturdy if somewhat light for the season and the... extra layers she tends to wear over it, and the curl of fingers draws the fabric ever so slightly more snugly about her. Her eyes open slightly as the hand finds her cheek, widening more to a quizzicly vulnerable expression as Aryia withdraws to catch her breath. There's a tiny flash of pink along the seam of the Acanians's lips before they part a touch, only to close again as she swallows some and nods, "It was."

Poetry.

With Aryia's return to leaning into her shoulder, Venom leans forward more to be more accommodating, feeling...

What she feels....

New, tender things, warm inside... less need to be at full vigilance...

A feeling...

This place...

Or just... with this woman, so similar, so different...

... is where she wants to stay.

Aryia snuggles into the hold, arms wrapped firmly around the unveiled woman. A soft sigh escaping her, content. Safe. Happy. Such moments were never really something Aryia got to reap so many of. Or even have the luxury of keeping said moments in the aching void that was the beating beast. She closes her eyes.

It felt nice to have someone to be candid with. To air the old to make room for the new. As aware as she was of their differences in perspective of time, Aryia knows that this beat of her long lived life would be the start of all that was to come. A chip, that began to form, shaping what would be a personality that nurture lacked so much to provide.

The shorter woman pulls away, both arms loosely looped at the waist of the other. She looks up, watches V's face for a few more of those moments, then pops up on her tip toes to give a quick peck on the lips, along with another silent giggle. "Should finish your gun, else it'll never get done today," the wind teases.

Meanwhile, in the complex systems of Venom, there are desires and urges that are similar, but not quite the same as they were with her former partner.

The young human may never realize the impact her flicker of time has on the Mul'niessa, but in the moment, relaxed, both protector and protected, such ephemerals as the passage of centuries are irrelevant.

She gives a soft, almost dreamy giggle at the kiss, then, hands lifting to smooth back Aryia's hair on both sides, she sighs, "You're right. When I'm finished... do you want to do something?"

Aryia's eyes flutter closed as her moon colored hair is smooth back, ears giving a faint flick as the hands pass by them. Face brightening at the sound the normally stoic enigma wouldn't ever make. A brow quirks as shimmery eyes crack open, a glance taken to the parts on the floor than back up to Venom. "... sure," she signs with a hand. "Like what?" <Handspeech>

A hand lightly traces the upper border of her right ear as Venom smiles in response to her answer, "That's a good question. Maybe, dinner, first as we can figure out the rest from there?" she ventures.

The peculiarities of her personas may make the trip slightly awkward, but they'll be together, and that's the important part.

Right?

Aryia taps her chin, a few thoughts going through her head. Some making a dreamy look go through her visage, others making the light red on her cheeks stay. "Dinner? And... we can bring it up here, set the table up? Maybe light a candle?" she slowly motions, filling out the plan further. "Then we can figure out what's next."

It might be, but to be honest? It didn't matter. Even seeing the veils and obscuring poncho was enough to brighten up her day.

She steps forward, and gives another warm hug.

Absolutely.

-End Scene-