Sudden Cold Snap

Log Info

• Title: Sudden Cold Snap
• Emitter: Cryosanthia
• Characters: Cryosanthia, Kira, Faranmidahn, Zeke
• Place: A10: Temple of Daeus
• Time: Friday, May 15, 2020, 12:08 PM
• Summary: Zeke is sleeping in the emptied room at the Temple of Daeus, so Cryosanthia invites Kira and Faranmidahn to visit her so she can ask some questions. Unexpectedly, Faran's mother, Serrendine Waywalker, comes along and Cryo experiences an emotional upset when she attempts to ask what Salina did to her cihuaa. Retreating into her Mistress mimicry, Cryo is able to interrogate the others in a harsh, clinical fashion. Unfortunately, this causes Kira to snap in anger, then Serrendine. The loud voices wake Zeke, who is panicked and difficult to console. The others gradually exit the room, leaving only Cryo and Zeke, but the whitescale is unable to get through to her bluescale cihuaa. He refuses to eat, explain why, or even believe he's escaped the tower. Acting as if his reluctance somehow protects everyone. Faran returns, and she and Cryo attempt a variety of arguments and actions to get through to him. They fail, and reluctantly Faran leaves and Cryo falls into futile sleep.

-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=<* 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.
Kira         5'0"     120 Lb     Human             Female    A young blonde woman wearing simple robes and an eye patch.
Faranmidahn  3'3"     35 Lb      Halfling          Female    Albino Lucht woman in black leather armor with a BIG spider
Zeke         6'8"     239 Lb     Sith-Makar        Male      A blue-scaled sith-makar in white Daeus vestments
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=

The room doesn't have an official name. On the Temple blueprints it is identified as storage room for the main temple area. On the inventory lists it has an innoculous identification, MTA-1c. In the awareness of the general clergy and acolytes it's 'where those two sith are' or 'where Zeke and his wife' are. For the guard that stands outside of it, it's one of those assignments that is like guarding a spot on the ground where a flower used to be, a place for a duty with no clear reasons.

The Recovery Room, Cryo's Room, Cryo's and Zeke's room, cihuaa's room. For the two sith in it, there hasn't been a name either, just a function. A place to be, even if it's perhaps not the best place they could be.

The room itself is almost completely empty. There is a box with a tea-set sitting on top of it against the wall, in the middle of the wall. Tucked beside it is a whitescale leather backpack. Other than that, the only other things in the room are the two sith. Zeke, the bluescale, huddled in the corner against the wall, and his mate, Cryosanthia, lying beside him like a small snowdrift and cooling the room almost as effectively as one. Neither have moved in a while, in a state of sleep or something approximating it.

Kira was up early, which is her norm; the bread has to start somewhere, and the preparation and baking usually begins in the wee hours before dawn. Most recently, though, she is as much needing things to do other than sleep as much as a familiar routine and necessary duties.

Those duties aside, when she receives a summons from Cryosanthia, she arrives almoat immediately. Her temple is just next door, afterall. After her prompt arrival, though, she hesitates for some time before lightly knocking on The Door.

The whitescale was in a shallow sleep. The knock startles her awake. There's a moment of panic, she's in the Tower! She never escaped! Immediately she looks for the tea-set, curls her hands against the floor. It's different enough. Her terror fades. She rises, approaches and opens the door.

Cryosanthia is wearing nothing except her whitescale gloves and anygarment sleeves. A nakedness that is not proud or brash, but the defeated vulnerability she wore when she was imprisonned below. Otherwise, she looks fine but there's a slowness to her movements, a slight slouch that also suggests all is not well. She smiles faintly and makes a small bow to Kira. Her voice is quiet, not a whisper but still low, "Peace on your nest Kira. Please. Come in. Zeke is sleeping, for now. Did you sleep ok?"

Kira offers a smile too havey with concern to be as reassuring as she would hope. "How is he?" she asks quietly, first. Only after does she add, "Peace on yours. How are you?" Her step inside is a bit hesitant as she glances around. She spies the blue lump of scales in the corner, eyes lingering a moment before they snap back to Cryo. "I ... didn't, really. Should I be here? I don't want to upset him any more..."

The invitation came and... for some time, Faran agonized over the decicion. Then... the travelling arrangements. At last, finally, the albino is here, clad in as slightly more formal version of her black arming dress, clak and sword belt, complete with her traditional hourglass longblade, assisting her companion: Another lucht woman, shorter by several inches, with something resembling the typical earthier pallor the halfings are expected to have, though her hair is a rich chocolate hue, streaked with ash and while her black dress, the left sleeve pinned up on itself near the shoulder, obscures much of her frame, the lay of it suggests she lacks the heavy shag of the Knight who shares some of her features.

"-cause they still owe us the favor, Mother... and my sister is here, too. I was hoping you could meet." the sorceress is saying as they enter the temple, proper.

The other, more solemn than the junior replies, "I see..."

Cryosanthia hugs Kira suddenly, holding tight. She is quite heavy and a lot of her weight is resting on the embrace. An unhappy noise vibrates within her, a low moan. Chin resting between Kira's shoulderblades she says, "He's not well. I'm not well. We're not well. Almost everything startles him. He believes I'm an illusion. Screams and cowers when I try to touch him. Seldan says a touch will help, but I can't force myself on him."

The guard in the hallway finds himself staring almost straight into Cryo's eyes. He steps back against the far wall. He turns his head to look at the two approaching luchts, nods and recognizes Faranmidahn. He gives an encouraging wave towards her.

Cryo's vocalizations stop, she exhales. She's cold, although her voice sounds more composed, "I know you are hurts, I would not take you back, but this one needs to know what she did to him. Did she glamour herself to appear as me? He said she tried to force him... to eat people. I have no idea Kira, what to do, make it seem like the Tower so his mind is less strained or shock it with differences? I took him to prayers and he collapsed, but it was his only real sleep since he was saved."

Kira is hugged, and hugs Cryo back firmly. With sprinklings of extra squeezes at each mention of who is not well and why. She's grateful for the hug first and comments after, as Kira uses Cryo for some support afterwards. She is silent for several moments, though shakes slightly. Shivers?

Once those stop, Kira releases her and straightens up. "I don't know everything that ... he experienced, but ..." she pauses to inhale slowly and exhale the same " I can share what I remember... if it will help."

Faranmidahn's eyes are drawn to the movement up the way and, she turns her face to her companion, "Oh, she's awake!" she says softly, perking some, and she lifts her hand to the guard and the two women with a, "Hello!" She blinks and glances furtively about, but, not seeing outright glares in her direction, steers her matron up the way and the two close the distance, "Ladies... how..... how are you? How is Zeke?"

"Anything will help, please, come in. There's... no where to sit. I'm sorry." Cryosanthia moves aside, and sees Faranmidahn and her mother. She crouches to the luchts height, holding her arms out and wide, "Oh Faran, thank you for coming too. And, peace..."

The sith knows Faran's mother, but not her name. She smiles, the social challenge straining her. How to introduce onceself after... everything. She waves for the older woman to join the embrace she's offering, "Please."

"Zeke is... physically well. His mind is... Faran it's getting real hard to hold things together. I thought I just had to until he gets back..." There is clear strain in her voice.

Kira nods and steps inside, before giving herself time to reconsider. "It's alright," she assures Cryo. Faran? Herself? She doesn't mind the lack of furniture, and seats herself in a corner of the room on the floor. The corner most opposite Zeke. Then she looks to Cryo and the doorway, to welcome Faran and her mother in with a weak smile, if a bit late.

Faranmidahn draws closer to meet Cryo's embrace, though she does, turned slightly, uncertain what her mother will take of this particular development, but hooks her free arm up around Cryo's neck to give her a firm, loving squeeze. Her eyes close in a rueful sigh and there is a nod, "I.... I see, I'm sorry, Cryo, maybe I can..." a quick look to her mother, "..help?" Ahem, "Mother... this is Cryosanthia... so very dear to me! She adopted me, we're sisters!" she explains a little awkwardly, not sure how to lay things out, then, "And the Sentinel, Kira, servant of Althea."

The elder lucht seems reticent to accept the embrace, but seems to decide on it's acceptance. As they are released from the larger woman's arms, she offers, "Well met, ladies." still deep enough in her miseries to falter on the introductions, or, just honestly that uncaccustomed to the people thing.

Ahem, "Ah, forgive me!" Faran chirps in quickly, glancing between the parties involved, "This is my mother, Professor Serrendine Waywalker..." she hesitates a moment, then, "one of the foremost experts on the Everstorm!"

The room is uncomfortably similar to being in the Tower. It smells very familiar. The bleak stone isn't exactly the same, but it's close. Empty and stark, there's no way it could have absorbed all the suffering the dungeons did, and it's better lit, but the oppression is there.

Cryosanthia's hug of the pair is firm, and cold. Both can feel her shuddering though only Faran might appreciate what it means. She releases both, turns a little in her crouch then drops herself to a sitting position. Legs crossed she curls her tail around where she takes hold of the tip. Her head bobs.

"Welcome, Professor Waywalker. This one is very glad to meet Faran's nest-mother. I apologize for... everything..." Cryo looks around, there isn't much to look at. A tea set, a stricken bluescale sith-makar male, asleep. Walls. She keeps shaking her head, small no's, in a way it's clear she isn't aware of it. "I have questions... and... thanks for coming..."

Kira is sitting, so dips her head respectfully at the introduction. "It is good to meet you." Which is true, but she doesn't extrapolate about the less-than-ideal circumstances. Speaking of which, she now looks to Cryo, torn between eagerness to help, fear of making things worse, her obligation to Zeke, and her own memories. "What would you like to know, Cryosanthia?"

Faranmidahn's mother lifts her hand to adjust the lay of her collar and nods, "You've... been looking after my girl." she replies, "Thank you... and thank you for getting me out of there." Her eyes wander, purveying the room and she stares at the slumbering cerulean sith for some moments in silence.

Faran, seeing some life in her dame, eases off of her support to no discernable mishap, and looks between her sister and friend, but, knowing the former's posture from experience, she swiftly moves foward to embrace the sith's head and makes a well intending, though patently terrible, attempt to mimic the protective crooning she and Zeke used for her after she stared into the depths of her devourer.

"What..." The sith starts to say, stops abruptly. She pulls her tail up against her chest, twisting the tip between her hands. She tries again, "Wha...." it turns into a moaning wail, a rising cry of despair and fear. Her eyes go black, a bad sign, that Faran knows and Kira would recognize from her experiences with Zeke. The sith pulls tighter against herself and her moaning stops.

It's a lot colder around her. Her breathing is hard, "I'm fine." She forces out, sounding like Salina. Distant. Disinterested.

"The procedures she used on you. The same for him. The methods. The experiments and the observations. The conclusions."

Cryo stares across the room at the wall. Leans into Faranmidahn's touch, closes her eyes. She shudders again, exhales another cold breath and says quietly, "You're doing it wrong. Like this." The sith chokes the first time, but then sings. A careful crooning, I am here. You are safe.

However prepared and bolsterd Kira thought she was... much of it starts to come undone at Cryo's wail. Her face distorts in ...horror? grief? anguish? all of the above? It was wholly unexpected, and by the time she fully realizes and reacts, Cryo has alrady gone cold. Well, colder. Distant. Elsewhere. Then she is ... back.. but not.

Somewhere, deep down, Kira is both aghast and ... envious. It takes her some time to compose herself, then recollection... then further collecting herself. Deep breaths. She is helping. That is her Calling. Her duty.

"I was only able to see him... after, and not often," she tells the floor in front of her. "I don't think he was given food, or water. He never ate... not even when I hoarded and offered him... She ... hurt him. Again. And again. I didn't have supplies, or time, but I tried to do what I could..."

"I made bandages however I could... I found a splinter of metal... sharpened it for a needle, so I could stitch the wounds. With thread. Hair. There was so little... and so many... I could only ever get to him... sometimes. Never anyone else..." The sith's downturn in mood, her posture and even the shift in apparant mindset serves the elder Waywalker ill, and she recoils a half step and turns away to cover her face with her hand.

Faran squeezes Cryo tightly with her wail and nuzzles against her neck, giving up on her pale immitation for the moment in favor of what she can do, crooning, "Easy, Cryo... easy... We're here... you're not alone..." The shift to Cryo's less emotive bearing, however, stitches her spine with iron and she eases back on her embrace as the sith begins to make her inquiries. It reminds her too much of their enemy, too much of the mind that created so many of the evils and horrors that have so scarred the room. The city, and many others around the world. But the lucht, looking about the room, gently excuses herself as Kira begins her reply, to enfold the smaller woman in her arms, whispering soothingly in their tongue.

"I see." The palescale answers, in the sith's clinical voice again, hard and scientific. Without Faran's touch her demeanor gets worse. "A starvation procedure. For him. For you, an observation of empathy. Was there wound suppuration? Did you have a method for demarking time? She would have wanted a control comparison." She pauses to think, then answers herself, "Correct. The Waywalkers, a bonded pair. The mistress rarely used two subjects. So Cryo's bond to Zeke, Zeke to Cryo. Zeke to Kira, Kira to Zeke. Serrendine and Faran's sire. Were you starved Professor Waywalker?"

It's as if Cryo is a shell and a voice is coming out of her. She's curled up tightly in her sitting position, but so much somewhere else. Being someone else. She waits. No response seems to be forthcoming. Quiet sobs fall on deaf ears.

"Answer the question, Professor Waywalker." The whitescale orders, exactly the way Salina delivers hers. No threat in the tones, her icy control was always enough, "Professor Waywalker?"

Kira just ... shrinks at this. The corner is secure. Safe. Enough. She wedges her back into it and draws knees to her chest and wraps her arms about them. Had she a tail, it would be curled around herself, too. She goes silent for a time, then remembers she's supposed to be sharing. Helpful.

"I don't know how long... but empathy... she already knew. The others in.. her room. I tried to help them. I begged to take their place. She allowed me. Once... but then she knew..."

The smaller lucht, the studious.... distant academic goes still for a few moments whilst her daughter, in turn, goes rigid.

"Mother... it's alright, yo-" Faran starts in a worried tone, glancing incredulously over her shoulder at the palescale.

The elder slowly raises a hand to draw the younger's arms from around her shoulder, "A reasonable theory, but wrong." she replies, her own voice mostly flat, "Occaisionally, someone would tend to my cell and present food and water." She, herself, doesn't look back, "Korsandir" here, something catches her voice and holds it, "...shortly after we were taken..." and there, she simply trails off.

"Thank you Professor Waywalker. I need to adjust my hypothesis." Cryo falls silent. She's staring at the far wall. A ball of upset lizard. She breathes, otherwise nothing. "I'm drawing a blank. I'll return to this. Noted: Korsandir."

More silence, finally broken.

"Nothing happens by accident here." The whitescale says. A mistake. She's not in Salina's tower. Or is she? Are they? The thought wedges in, another trick. Another cruel observation by the Mistress. The Mistress... no the Mistress' Pet says, "She was watching, Kira. Every time you saw Zeke she meant you too. She was starving him. Maybe giving him food that looked like you. Your parts. Seeing if she could make him attack and eat. He's afraid of bread now. Did he ever eat, at first and then stop? Any sense of time? Did wounds heal, did your nails grow, were you there multiple months?"

It is colder, the room seems darker. It's larger than a cell but she could make those any size. There's a tea set. Perhaps the test is to see if anyone will go for it. What would the punishment be for doing so? What is it for not?

So many questions... All to figure out .. what? why? Was there ever a 'why?' Kira tried very hard to come up with that, so as to put a stop to it. That never did really work out for her, though. She puts her head in her hands and just sobs some. "Zeke... Zeke...Zeke..." One can only take so much discomfort, though.

Kira's head suddenly snaps up to actually stare at Cryosanthia... or whomever some or all of them thinks she might be. "Zeke, Zeke, Zeke! To the Hells with Zeke!" A surge of energy helps her spring to her feet. She couldn't look her in the eye before; now she doesn't look away and she's ...yelling(?) back at the calm one. "What about THEM?! Dozens! Maybe hundreds! I couldn't help them! I -HURT- them!"

While not sobbing, tears are rolling, though one might think they could boil away off her reddened cheeks. And, no, she's not blushing. "Which eye should I take?! Which limb?! Organ?! Choose quickly or I'll take both!!" She points at Cryosanthia with a jabbing finger. "Oh, take that one, please and thank you, Mistress... Thank you for WHAT?! Making them suffer?!"

The senior Waywalker nods to the wall and replies, 'There was little discourse from the Mistress of the dungeon.' she ammends to the answer she'd given Cryo, earlier, her voice stabliizing. She does start, however when Kira snaps, and she turns in alarm, watching the outburst then, 'Ahh, yes... you.' You. A 'you' that comes with an absent, if meaningful scratching at the defecit on her right side, 'Thank you, Mistress, indeed.' She turns to her issue with a firm "Faranmidahn, I no longer need this creature's presence. I will see to that priest, now."

" Wha-? Mother, but... what does that...?" the albino stammers, her hand reaching to empty space as her mother storms out of the room and with a slow, reluctant realization blooming horror and anger in her eyes, 'What... does she mean, Kira...?' She squares herself toward the woman, 'You didn't...? You weren't....?' <Halfling>

Cryosanthia recoils from Kira's onslaught. She raises her hands defensively, turning herself into a smaller, tighter ball. A stink rises from her, she automatically gestures and her gloves glow, whisking it away. The mistress does not like sith-makar smells. She smells of nothing at all. Her voice cracks with fear, "Left eye! Left Arm! Gall Bladder! Thank you Mistress. I'm sorry Mistress. I love you Mistress."

The sith shelters behind her upraised arms, trying to hide. She's not expecting a blow, Salina's physical punishments are so much slower. There's still questions she must answer, has to answer, and the hardest one: Why?

"I don't know! I don't know. I don't know why. I don't know why I couldn't help them! I tried! I tried. It didn't listen, it felt so close. I felt it I don't know why I couldn't save them. To teach me I can't? I caaa...." She breaks, her words turning into a wail of despair born of corrupted hope. Her hands close around the bag she wears around her neck. She stares at Zeke. So many that she's let down, over so long, and the ones she has gotten out still aren't truly free.

She doesn't hear Serrendine's words, notice her exit, hear Faran turn on Kira. Cryosanthia has left as well, for someplace far more horrible, singing irrational calls of loss.

The sound of screaming has finally, at last pulled Zeke from his exhausted slumber. The sith-makar has been sleeping for some time now, or rather more unconsious then actively asleep, and the first raised word pulled him from it as rudely as might be expected. He lays on the floor, unmoving, his eyes wide as he watches the women fight with one another. Their agitation scents the air and his quickly joins it. Their words make him realize something which has not entirely sunken into his mind. That he is /not/ in the tower. Because this? This would /never/ be allowed there. "Sssaa?" His voice is a croak, a quiet thing to enter into the debate. "Ssssh. Sssshe will hear you." He murmurs to them carefully. Surely it must be heard? They will all be punished for this.

Angry isn't very becoming on Kira, nor is it really ... natural to her, at all. Still, it empowers her for the moment and she steps forward as Cryosanthia steps back. She doesn't seem to notice Serrendine's exit, and doesn't understand the words... both of which may be for the better.

Faran's she does understand, however, and she turns to her. "Yes. I did. I couldn't choose to do nothing!" She's still angry, but at whom may be open for debate. "I-" she starts to try and explain... justify? apologize? when Cryo then begins her keening wail.

This digs deep enough to burst the bubble and her ire promptly vents. No sounds (or sith smells) but she just ... deflates and slumps. The floor is very, very interesting once more, and doesn't take energy to look at! Until she hears a new voice that makes her turn her head. "Zeke?" she asks quietly, the word possibly lost under the current sounds.

Faran is somewhat frozen for a moment as the tapestry unravels from the corners around her.

Her mother, naturally like Salina in many trancendant respects, root of her life and many of her foibles.

Kira, a kind soul to whom so much is owed.

Cryosanthia, her sister, there for her when her resolve crumbles, there when her heart was hit with a hammer.

Zeke, to whom she owes as much, who's livewise suffered so terribly.

The pressure tightens her chest like a vice, but the hesitation is no longer than a beat before she moves, first to Zeke, sparing a glance to Kira, trusting to understand her sister enough she tries to help Zeke first. Her chihuaa. She sinks to her knees beside the prone blue sith holding open, placating hands to him, "Zeke... my dear friend... do you remember me?" she asks gently, her anguish fueling the resolve she needs to move toward helping these tortured souls the best way she can.

It's easier to stand firm when your back's against the wall.

There will be punishment. Zeke's words get through her loud mourning. She's attentive for those, always. The palescale's song cuts off instantly. She lowers her arms to look past. Kira is there, dangerous. Her Zeke, across the room. Instincively she launches forward into a roll that she comes out of in a low, stretched crouch. She scuttles herself beside Zeke using her hands and feet to slide herself on her belly. She lurks beside her cihuaa, compressed. Her gaze passes over Faran and while there seems to be recognition, intelligence seems lacking. She lies quiet. Waiting.

Zeke blinks blearily up at Faran, his eyes tracing over her face. There's no recognition there. He blinks again, searching his memory for an image that fits the woman sitting before him. "Thissss one..." His eyes track over to Kira briefly, his eyes growing sad at the sight of her and then to Cryosanthia. "Where... where are we?" His voice is low and careful. The room does not /smell/ like the tower either.

Kira's deflation completes, leaving her on the floor: not crouched, but slumped on hands and knees. She still looks to Zeke, and when he looks to her with that gaze... then she's more like Cryosanthia, skittering low. In her case, though, it's away from the others and back into her corner. For her own good. Or his. Or someone's? She does respond to his question, not that it is an answer. "I don't know..."

Faranmidahn's emotion isn't locked behind a wall as pinned up against it, scratching and clawing and biting at her reason, she despairs of her stricken friends; her second family and a family endangered for their traumas.

The palescale's sudden relocation brings her up short, and the surprise loosens her figurative grip. Hands still held aloft in their placating posture, she tries again to make Cryo's soothing sound after her previous imput, and within the limits of her mammalian configuration she does... okay... Kind of.

Zeke's words, though, break off her 'song, and a little white fluffy spider emerges from under her hair, pawing with fizzy forelegs at her neck. The sorceress lowers her eyes some, unable to stop the tears from trickling forth at having been forgotten, "Mmm-m-my name-!" she starts in a choked voice, swallows and tries again, "My name is Faranmidahn.... you.. my friend, can call me Faran."

She spares a quick look askance as she hears Kira shifting back and, explains to the lot, "You're in the Dragonfather's Temple, in the city of Alexandria."

The palescale remains crouched beside Zeke, watching Faran. As the lucht makes her noises, her best approximation of soothing sith sounds, it appears to satisfy the female. She visibly relaxes, loosing the tension in her arms and legs. She lies now, belly down and closes her eyes. Soon she is making the soothing sound as well, her panicked scents are gone. She's... there. Close to her cihuaa, breathing. Listening. Nothing else yet, only the soft thrumming.

Zeke blinks at Faran. "Faran?" He murmurs back to her, the name sounding more familiar on his tongue than the sight of her face. It's been eighty years. He reaches out with his crystal claw toward the lucht, nudging her knee gently. "Are... are you hurt?" There's a low murmur in the air that's comforting and without thinking he adds to it. Thrumming to calm those around him. To let them know that everything is as okay as it can be right now.

Kira isn't sith-makar, but the sound may be soothing to all, regardless. Her ...whatever that was, and its venting, have also left her drained. It's so much easier to not be angry or pained or worried or... much anything... and just .. be. So, for the moment, she just sit-slumps in the corner. And breathes. That is mildly important.

Faranmidahn's expression, turned back toward Zeke, brightens like the horizon as the sun comes up, "Yes! Yes, it's me, Faran!" she chirps excitedly as he recognizes her... as he willfully touches her, even with the prosthetic... he... he reached out to her! She sniffs, "I'm fine, now that you're back... I..." her hands, still held aloft, tremble with constrained enthusiasm, "May I... can I hug you... I promised you, remember...? I promised i'd make sure it was ok, first!"

She looks to Cryosanthia, realizing that her sister has, instead of leaning on the emulation, has turned to falling back to her more bestial underpinnings. She rejoins her song, as it is, to Zeke's.

She does look back toward Kira, the mix of emotions touching her voice, but her attention turns back to the Sith. She can fix one at a time, perhaps, or at least get one up to help with the rest. Triage, in a way, but serves to also buy herself time.... time to deal with what she's just learned, to cope with down deep in her heart, though her rational mind 'knows' the paladin was merely the instrument, not the hand. Alas, the mind knowing something is not entirely the heart knowing, but she will grapple with that after.

The whitescale lies there, listening to the tones and cadence of Faran's words. They aren't addressed towards her and need no response, so there is none forthcoming from her. Only her song, thrumming with Zeke's. Things are Ok. Her mate is here, her sister is here. It's not the tower. Instincts more than anything else are pulling her together, dragging her up from the depths.

She really wants a swim, but this will do.

The sith's breathing has slowed, her body is relaxed, her eyes remained closed. Scents and sounds for now.

Zeke looks around the room again, as if he needs to catolog it every few seconds to make sure it hasn't changed. His eyes always go sad for a few seconds upon spotting Kira, and then he checks on Cryosanthia, humming for her. It's all he can do.

The sith looks at Faran questioningly. "Hug?" The word is a little bit of a questioning warble.

Silent watching doesn't take so much energy, so that's what Kira's done. Mostly of the two sith. Cryo's breathing is calming, even a bit hypnotic. That she seems calm, even comfortable is a comfort to Kira as well. Even more that she's next to Zeke, and him to her. At least one thing is very much, in her mind, as it should be.

But his look. It's not the first time she's seen it, and it tore at her seeing it every time beforehand. Not the least of which was when she rushed in... this very room. Yesterday? Did she do it again? Another bad choice? She's had ...a few of those, lately.

Guilt doesn't take much energy, either, and is even empowering in a way. Enough that she gets to her feet.

It's not unlike yesterday... so it can't be the day, then. Nor Cryo or Zeke, since they're where they belong. This narrows down the culprit to blame considerably. "I should go..." She's not darting for the door, this time, though that may be do more to lack of energy than lack of desire.

And Faran? Certainly none of this is her doing. Her mother? Well, the fault for that was already spelled out quite clearly.

Faranmidahn keeps up her song for a time, hoping that, if nothing else, it soothes Cryosanthia's emotions enough, sooths her instincts enough, to give her time to regroup.

Zeke's question makes the Lucht's Sith song trail off on a quizzical note before she blinks at him. Ah ahem, "Embrace... may I lean against you and put my arms around you?"

Then, as Kira rises, she closes her eyes and takes a deep, streadying breath, "Sentinel... I owe you a great deal. No one in Sally's tower could leave cleanly."

It does soothe her, enough that the whitescale opens her eyes again. Her head turns, first looking at Faran, then Kira, finally Zeke. Nothing in her eyes but she notes their positions, and her pupils are back to thin slits. Normal. She feels safer, secure, enough to risk something.

She wants a hug too. Since she found him in the Tower she wanted to feel her cihuaa's touch. The desperate scrambling to keep him alive, bind his wounds and move him, heft his limp weight, that doesn't count. She wants him, aware, to believe she's there. To recognize her.

She calls, a different sort of warble, come to me. Please. Come to me. She gazes longingly at the bluescale.

Zeke looks at Kira first then shakes his head. "Do not go... please stay." He is gently pleading, his eyes dark with sadness as he returns his attention to Faran. Faran and Cryosanthia. It takes him several long moments to realize what they're asking of him. What they both want - perhaps even need. His body vibrates, tension singing along all his muscles. His crystal claw moves bumping into Faran's knee - not by accident - and then moving to touch Cryosanthia. "Yesssss. You may... touch thisss one." His voice is a little distant, and fear exudes from his every pore, but he says the words anyway.

Kira pauses at the doorway with Faran's words. "Please, don't," she asks softly of her, but to the doorframe. "You don't owe me anything." Rather, she fells that it is very much the other way around. That said, she is about to resume her steps when Zeke speaks.

She goes still and is paused there. Considering. Debating. Choosing? No, no... debating sounds much better. Finally, she moves again, now to turn in place, to face towards the trio. She doesn't leave, but doesn't approach.

Faranmidahn feels the trembling and she smiles sadly, but she scoots a little closer, "Zeke... you're safe... no one here wants to hurt you. You... everyone.. has been hurt enough." She reaches out to gently sets her hand against his arm, just for a moment, she thinks about it for another, then leans closer to gently curl her arms against him. She's way too small to encompass him in her arms, and she tries once more to make their comforting sound. It helps him. It helps Cryo. She looks along her side to Kira, there is still some conflict in her eyes, but primarily her eyes are sympathetic, "It's alright, Kira. Zeke needs you, too."

"Cihuaa..." The whitescale growls protectively when she feels the bluescale's touch. She takes it as permission and rolls on her side. More of a slump, or a sprawl where she lets herself shift over so her back is against her mate's side. She's cool in her usual way, solid and heavy. Feeling his presence her breath goes out in a long, happy sigh. Her thrumming continues, weaving in and out of the other two songs, becoming more intricate and musical. Her head lies on the ground, sideways because of her snout and she gazes across the room at Kira. Simply watching. An arm raises, waving her closer, then curls down to support her. <draconic>

Zeke's eyes close at the first touch. The second thrill of fear. He doesn't move. Dosn't twitch from where he lays. The scent of fear quickly fades leaving an eerie calm in it's wake. They need this. It is the only thought on his mind. That this is necessary. He doesn't open his eyes again. Not now. He just lays there quiet and still.

Kira looks towards ... the pile(?), but doesn't meet Faran's eyes. Zeke's and Cryo's are closed, which is not only taken as a sign that they are comfortable, but is also comforting to Kira. "He needs her," she points out, "needs to be safe. Needs..." Whether she's uncertain of what is next on the list, or its just now that she notices Cryo IS watching and her claws are waving, beckoning... she never finishes the thought.

That leaves her back to consideration. Debate. Choice. Is the third time the charm? Or is doing the same thing over and over again while expecting a different result not the very definition of madness? At least here and now, her choice is much easier. "Peace on your nest, all of you," she offers with a flicker of a smile, before she steps backward out the door and into the hall.

Faranmidahn knows how uncomfortable this is for him, as a friend, not cihuaa, she will only hold her embrace so long before drawing back up to rest on her knees, "I should see to mother's treatment. Would you have me bring food back? Zeke.." a little uncertain, "Cryo...?" Then at last, "Kira? Anything?" and she pushes herself to her fluffy feet.

The whitescale continues making her happy, comforting noises. Vibrations strong enough they can be felt by those near. Her eyes close fully, she's relaxed. Her name spoken aloud gets a murmur of sorts as a response. She's heard. Another breath, another exhale.

"This one fell apart," Cryosanthia says, her voice calm and quiet, "I'm sorry Zeke, I needed to..." The sentence drifts off. She breathes some more, lying against Zeke before rolling and sitting up in a kneeling position. Her eyes open and she gazes sadly at Faran, at Zeke, "I got too desperate and I hurt everyone."

"Do you know where we are, do you remember me?" She looks at her mate.

Zeke... still has his eyes closed, his body still unmoving. If not for the rise and fall of his chest he might have been dead. Instead after several long moments he finally opens his eyes, blinking away a cloud of distance that separates him from reality. He looks around the room, gaze flickering over everyone and then back again. "Kira?" His voice is soft, almost a whisper. "Where... Where are you Kira?" He blinks and the smell of fear rises up from him once more. "Where is ssshe?"

Faranmidahn watches the paladin leave and sighs softly. There's so much to do.. There is a look back to the lovers, then to the door Kira left through. "She went... for something, Zeke... are you alright? Are you hungry?"

"Sssshe went.. for sssomething." Cryosanthia says, slowing her words and drawing them out. "The Missstresss usssed her badly. Ssshe is hurt, sssad. Ssshe wasss forced... unspeakable thingsss. Thisss one will find her."

The whitescale remains kneeling on the ground beside Zeke, hands on her knees, watching him, and giving guilty glances in Faran's direction, "I sshould have... sussspected. I'm sorry. I wanted you here for this one. I asked too much Faran, you have so much to bear."

Zeke winces at Faran's question, looking away from the little luct. "No." The thought of food makes his stomach clench and growl loudly. For a moment Zeke looks as though he is about to be ill, and then the sound fades and he keeps his eyes on Cryosanthia. "Thisss one helped her asss much asss thisss one could... we did not get to sssee one another often."

Faranmidahn shakes her head, "No, Cryo. We're sisters." she says, waving it off, "If you need me, I'll do what I can." She catches the flinch from Zeke, and her eyes sadden and she sighs, "I'm sorry..." She palms her face a moment, then, "I'll return shortly."

"What did the Mistress do to you? Why won't you eat? Kira told me, how much she did, how hard she tried. I saw. I will find her, she's worried the sight of her upsets you." Cryosanthia says softly. She smells worried and confused, reaches out then withdraws her hand again. She finds her comforting noise again and makes it, buzzing in place.

"You're safe Zeke. You're in the Dragonfather's house. Tell me what happened, after I left, what I need to know to help you." The whitescale watches carefully.

Zeke shakes his head. Shakes it once and then again and again. He looks away from Cryosanthia at Faran, would have looked at anything else, but there is the lucht. Watches her leave and then his eyes just watch the door silently.

"What did the Mistress do Zeke? What did she do?" Cryosanthia asks, moving around to kneel in front of him. She places her hands on the floor, supports herself as she leans closer. Gloves and her Anygarment sleeves, exactly how she would have looked whenever she was in an anti-magic field. The only other thing in the room is the box with the tea set on it, and her backpack.

"Please," She crouches low, watching him for cues, inhaling his scent, "do you wish to go to prayers again? We're free. It's over."

Zeke slowly... very slowly turns to look to Cryosanthia and then... away again. He smells of sadness but he finally shakes his head again. "Thisss one... Isss weak. Thisss one isss not sssure that thisss one can move." He stares at the door. Watches it like a rabbit watching a hawk might.

"She's not going to come through the door. Faran might, Kira might. She's never coming through. She's gone." Cryosanthia says, turning her head to follow his gaze. She remains in her kneeling crouch. She'd carry him, without hesitation. Although that's not necessary.

"We can use magic, get a floating disc. A cleric yesterday offered to turn me into mist so I could fly around. You don't even have to move Zeke, you can pray here, feel his warmth. Your prayers will work Zeke, he'll hear you now."

It seems difficult for him to look away from the door, but he does again. For the sight of Cryosanthia. "Thisss one knowssss." He lifts a tired claw to his chest. "Thisss one can feel the Dragonfather. Ssstill. Thisss one hasss not failed Him." There's an echo at the end of that sentence as his green eyes drift slowly back to the door. "Thisss one will not fail Him."

Cryosanthia nods, watching, focused entirely on Zeke. Her tail is still and straight out behind her. She sits, her weight on her heels and knees. She moves a hand closer towards him, on the ground. "Use some spells, Zeke. A restoration, if you have it, or heal. If... if food frightens you, create food and water so you know it comes from him. That it's safe to eat. You're starving, I hear it. This one will chew your food for you. You must eat."

She leans closer, "That other spell, that moves afflictions, move it to me. I can handle it. I'll take that from you."

Zeke shudders. "No. Thisss one can not, even if thisss one could... thisss one /would/ not." He stares at the door, waits. "Thisss one hasss no ssspellsss. Thissss one would need ressst for sssuch, and they will not aid thisss one againssst..." The blue-scaled sith trails off, as if forgetting what he is saying.

"Againssst what?" Cryosanthia moves her head, trying to catch his eyes, keep his focus. "There issss nothing to fight. You can ressst, you are sssafe. Ressst and get ssspellss, ressst and cassst ssspellss to eat."

Watches intently, inhales his scent, "What are you watching for? For Kira?"

Zeke's eyes nictate and he blinks back to Cryosanthia. "Thissss one doesss not know. There isss never a door unlesss ssshe willsss it there. Thisss one doesss not know what will come through it." He sounds exhausted and sad. His eyes close. "Thisss one doesss not want sssuch thingssss."

Cryo stares back at Zeke, she shakes her head. "It's not her door. This is not her place, smell the stones. Your tea, it's over there. Thisss one wantsss you to eat. To drink. There isss not... well there is a guy on the other ssside of the door, but he doesn't come in. Zeke, where are you?"

The door opens, well it kind of opened a smidge earlier, but it well and properly opens now and, as she steps in, the little Knight looks to the pair and says, "But they are things that you need, Zeke." with an understated firmness. "The Dragonfather's light is within you still? He trusts you to do his good work?" she closes the door gently, then starts to walk closer, "What happens if you go overlong without food, Zeke? Weakness, madness... and the hymn of the Death Singing Dragon. A mate left desolate in anguish." her voice quavers some, "My mother's torment... would you have Cryosanthia bear it over her centuries as well?"

The sound of the door opening startles Zeke's eyes open and he looks ready to bolt even in spite of his earlier uncertainty about being able to move. "Thisss one isss here." Here. In this room. Faran's advance is watched carefully, but Zeke doesn't move except to shake his head slowly. "Thisss one can not. You do not know what you asssk..."

That thought strikes deep. that Zeke might starve and she'd have to watch him do so and live with it. Cryo inhales, nostrils flaring. "Where isss the room? What are we asssking? Tell thiss one, pleasse. What did ssshe do?"

"Zeke, I have ssscrolls. To ssshare memoriesss. Let me sssee, ssshow me ssso I undersstand. Pleaasse!" Cryo looks at her backpack, back at her cihuaa.

Faranmidahn shakes her head ruefully, "No, you're right, I don't." and she drops into a three point crouch, not more than her arm's reach, braced with her left hand, her casting hand draped off her knee, "I know what I'm trusted to know... and what I can see... all I see is an injured man... my friend, and the light of my sister's soul... letting himself go." She takes in a breath, then, "What I don't know... is why." Her eyes turn to Cryosanthia and she reaches behind her back to pull a pair of scroll cases from a case on her belt, "We'd gladly share your pain, Zeke... if it helps you bear it." She presents the cases and, "We can also share with you... our most precious memories of you. So that you understand, as no one else can, what you truly mean to us."

Zeke stares at the scroll like it's a dog that might bite him and slowly, carefully scoots away. "No." It's a whisper, softly horrified. "You do not want to know." There's a low mournful sound in his throat. "Thisss one sssaid... sssaid and ssshe... Thisss one can not tell what isss real from what iss not." He holds up his claw between himself and Faran. "For your own sssake thisss one can not. There are thingsss that no-one sssshould know."

"Zeke, we've been through everything together. You were so strong, time after time. The only thing that kept me going. Let me ssee. Thisss isss real. We are in the houssse of the Dragonfather, he will hear you. Food isss safe. Sshe iss gone."

The whitescale pulls off her left glove, showing off her Snowflake scar. Her hand waves through a graceful gesture and light trickles along her arm, then the scales around her eyes glow. "Sssee? I can sssee. It'sss not active. Ssshe is not watching."

More gestures, a different spell this time. Message. She casts it on the snowflake, "Missstresss, ansswerr me. Ssssee Zeke? Ssshe iss no more."

Faranmidahn frowns and shakes her head, "Ok. Then she edges closer and actively takes a knee next to the prone bluescale, "Then lift that hand, the natural one, and you try to put it across my head." she says in resignation, "But it needs to your flesh, the hand that can feel. By the Purple Rose, I grant you absolution. Take your shot."

"Thisss one knowsss. We are not there. We are here." He looks away from Cryosanthia, a flicker toward the door. Then to Faran. "Thisss one will not harm you Faran. Thisss one will not harm any-one." His eyes shift between the two females and he shakes his head slowly, pressing the side of his face into the cool stone. "Thisss one will not harm any-one."

"Zeke! You are harming yourssself. You saying that like it'sss what I want to hear. The door isss a door. It'sss not hersss. It will alwaysss be there. Ussse your ssspellss. Touch me. I am real. What did ssshe do to you?" Cryosanthia pushes up off the floor. She's standing. Then she's walking, because she's got too much energy. Then she's running, because walking isn't enough. Then that corner is really attractive.

The whitescale throws herself into a dive, which becomes a roll, where ..she springs up after from it and leaps at the wall. Stepping halfway up she kicks off, pushes herself towards the other half of corner and shoots herself higher. She backflips, kicking off the ceiling to speed her rotation so she lands, spinning into a low sweep and charges another wall. She bounces off that one, landing hands, then feet, like a swimmer reversing at a block she flies the opposite way. Lands, leaps, springs. Her tail slapping louder than her hands and feet.

Whap, slap, snap, clap. Whap, slap, snap, clap. Cryo starts dancing and beating out a percussive rhythm. She casts, left hand, then right, setting a ghostly accompanyment of bells and piano-forte. Each gesture is part of her rhythm, her dance, and sparkles of light flash across her scales.

Cryosanthia is gorgeous and glittering. "She doesn't allow thisss Zeke! Ssshe would punissh me! I'm going to kee dancing, and singing and making noisse until you promisss me you'll eat. Because you don't have to worry! She's gone!"

"Sally Salina salamander, the wicked Queen of the Fae! Can't hurt usss anymore she melted away yessterrday! Sing Stupid Salina's gone! The wicked winter witch! She cries and she dies and her Towers gone! Queen Salina is Dead!"

"No you don't." Faran says sharply, "You keep glancing behind me at the door like you expect Sally to stroll in for a quick test." She throws her hands up for a moment then, "What does starving yourself accomplish, aside from what we've already established?" she wonders, her voice tinged with worry and frustration, though she's trying to keep it reasonably quiet, "To make someone watch needless suffering, is that not causing-"

Cryo's interjection brings her up short and she looks studiously at the palescale for a moment, though after dropping to near-animal level, after abandoning Cryosally, the sudden, vigorous leap(literal) into her creative, daring side fills Faran with hope and she starts to clap along with the beat, "Yeah, to hell with her!" and, while she's neither a singer, nor really much of a dancer, she joins in both.

Zeke watches the pair with a mixture of confusion and something akin to horror. He shakes his head lifts his hands to cover his ears and thrums a low comforting sound to himself. Not here, the sound says. Not here. He closes his eyes and... it seems that maybe all of this is a little bit too much for the sith-makar.

Cryosanthia keeps her dance up a little while longer. The improvised music has a nice beat and she accompanies it well with her spells. As she moves and casts in her dance, she's her own light show, all her highlight scales winking and flashing small points of light. It's graceful, and there's a magical sylvan aspect that might tickle Faran's memories of a fae party, even though the composition is entirely sith-makar. She refines her song as she goes, figuring out better rhymes that play off the Wicked Winter Witch alliteration and emphasizing that She is dead.

However it's clear it isn't working. That it is overstimulating, too much of a shock. The whitescale sees how her mate withdraws and then stops. She sits where she was just standing. "I don't know what to do Faran. You should find your mother, see to her. If you could get a Floating Disc scroll. Maybe... something... I'll sit with him."

Cryo sits there, staring at the backs of her hands. A Snowflake, and the one with the glove still on, a Dragon Eye. "You said you'd kill yourself if I didn't leave Zeke. I left, so you wouldn't. Why are you punishing me now? For leaving? Do you want to die? Are you trying to starve yourself? I kept my promise I came back. I left so you wouldn't do this. Why are you still doing this?"

Faranmidahn lets the animation mostly leave her and shakes her head, fixing the pair with a solemn look, "Sure, Cryo... she's probably hungry... and we..." she lowers her eyes a moment, then, "Have to decide on arrangements." There, she hesitates, a question parting her lips, but one that doesn't sound past that boundry, "I'll check with you tomorrow. Live your freedom. Not everyone has that chance." she says solemnly and she turns to walk out.

Zeke doesn't move. Maybe he doesn't hear what's going on in the room. He does have his hands over his ears, his low thrumming echoing away from him. Low and modulated. Constant and without rest. He hums and keeps his eyes closed. Lost in his own mind and his own thoughts and his own body.

Cryosanthia sits there, watching Faran leave, seemingly about to let her walk out the door when the sith leaps up and chases after her, to give her a strong, cool, hug. "Thanks, for coming. For being here for me. For us. I love you."

She stands, opens the door. Gives the guard standing there some orders, "Don't let him leave without me. Wake me, wake the Sunblades and the Dragonfather. Follow him if he leaves and I'm dead to the world. Make sure your replacement knows." She nods. He nods.

"You too Zephyr, bye." The whitescale waves, letting the door close behind her. She walks towards her mate, wrung out from her emotional breakdown earlier. Pulling herself together, it didn't really seem to matter. She lies down on the floor, on her belly, facing the box and the tea set. The energy she had minutes ago, gone. Anger at Salina rises, and melts away. The adrenaline rush has drained her and she simply listens to the thrumming and falls into sleep.