Debts pAYAble and lAYAway
Log Info
- Title: Debts pAYAble and lAYAway
- Emitter: Cryosanthia
- Characters: Cryosanthia, Jinks, Aryia, Mikilos, Braelnoir
- Place: W02: Mictlan
- Time: Sunday, January 09, 2022, 8:36 PM
- Summary: The nest mothers are enjoying a steamy romance novel as a group activity with Cryosanthia directing the production while Aryia pulls double-duty participating while on guard. Mikilos has read this particular volume before and offers color commentary. Jinks arrives in a hurry after having upset the border guard at the edge of Mictlan, earning an escort until he can be vetted. The reading is put aside and Cryosanthia looks in on the gnome, who quickly explains that he's had an encounter with Aya (or, at least, almost-Aya). Lily begrudgingly quits into extradimensional space to avoid the grownup talk. Aryia and Jinks compare notes and bring both Cryosanthia and Mikilos up to speed on some of the city's recent goings-on. Braelnoir returns from the loo. Simulacra and prophecy are discussed, Lars is cursed, and an impromptu lecture on regional naming traditions of divine entities is endured. Cryosanthia is going to help get Aya back. No, Braelnoir corrects, Cryosanthia is not going to help get Aya back-- at least not by going to the Halls.Jinks tells Aryia he needs to help if he can. Everyone is going to do their part (but Cryosanthia isn't allowed to go to the Halls of Waiting). Aryia makes sure not to forget her copy of the romance novel before she and Jinks head back towards Alexandria, Braelnoir taking over on guard duty.
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Located within the Deep Woods, and hours past Wilderness Pointe, in the heart of its northern woods, bones frame this hollowed-out space. Massive and heavy, they reach towards the sky, meeting--almost--in the center like great and worn stalagmites. Or giant teeth. After a few seconds--it's quickly evident that this is a space carved from a dragon's bones. A very, very large...dragon's bones. The air smells of ash, brimstone, and earth. Underneath the apex of the bones lie the workings of a central Fire.
The grounds are run by shamans of the sith-makar, and the sacred space dedicated to the Death Singing Dragon, one of their names for the goddess, Vardama. There are always a number of them about, from a mixture of tribes. Formally, the sith use it to sing the souls of their dead back to the land of Wing and Flame, and celebrate the Memory of Blood. It was here that brave heroes stood, and vanquished the ashen warriors of old, thereby freeing the land from Thul's curse. Informally, it is a gathering place.
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-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Appearing, in Order -=-=-=-=-= Cryosanthia 6'9" 291 Lb Sith-Makar Female A dashingly tall, elegant white-scaled lizard woman. Aryia 4'8" 110 Lb Shadow Elf Female A heavily scarred mul with a resolved look about her. Jinks 3'4" 39 Lb Gnome Male A gnomish fellow in fancy garb and jewelry. Mikilos 6'8" 180 Lb Dawn Elf Male Tall male dawn elf, rosey blonde and handsome. Braelnoir 5'11" 146 Lb Human Female A tall, pale Acanian woman, branded in silver. -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--= -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= NPCs of Note =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Xochicotzin, 'Xochi' Sith-Makar Female A red-scaled, mesomorphic, Egg-Watcher, nesting. Cozamalotl, 'Zama' Sith-Makar Female A brass-scaled, stringy, Lore-Keeper, nesting. Itzpapalotl, 'Papalotl' Sith-Makar Female A bronze-scaled, squat, Crafter, nesting. Metztli Sith-Makar Female A gold-scaled, graceful, Crafter, nesting. Tayanna Sith-Makar Female A green-scaled, muscular, Egg-Watcher, patient. -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=
Mictlan, the Nesting Grounds. The nests.
All the Nest-Mothers, Cryosanthia included, are lying sprawled on their nests. Each is propped so that their bellies gently touch the tops of their eggs, protecting and keeping track of them. They also have books open, held in both hands with their elbows propping them up.
The same book, although different editions. Zama's collection of the Crimson Pen has been handed out.
"He gaze into her watery, winsome eyes. Leaning close, the man with the ruddy complexion whispered..." Cryosanthia says, and then there's silence. She waits. A long moment goes by. "Xochi, that's you."
"Oh? What? Uh!" The red-scale stammers, then finds her place. In a voice that's deeper than her usual one, making her sound like a man with a life-time smoking habit instead of woman with one, she says, "Hey there good looking. I've got a cargo hold full of gold and adamantine as the balast rocks."
"The woman swo..." Cryo starts to say.
"Oh YES! YES! Take me!" Zama interrupts, sounding more high pitched than usual, and still hidden within her book fort.
"The woman swooned," Cryo repeats, "tearing her bodice and thrusting her chest towards the rapscallion. His strong chin and valuable cargo too much for her."
"... this is completely unnecessary," complains Jinks, escorted by the perimeter guard that wasn't happy with his rapid advance. Enness is led by the gnome (who is in-turn led by the sith-makar), panting great gusts of steam, worked into a lather by the rapid trip from the city gates. "I've been here a half-dozen times already..."
The gnome, too, puffs out clouds of steam as he huffs, frustrated on his way into the nesting grounds. He's pale and sweating and his clothes are a bit out of order after the ride. The bard pulls back his lips and curls his tongue against the top of his mouth to get Cryosanthia's attention, canting his head at the guard and shrugging his shoulders.
There is another person here, her normally grey scarred face now a bright crimson all the way up to the tip top of her long ears as most of her visage buried into a book, following along as she sits cross legged in a space between the nests.
Aryia slowly turns to the next page. "This is so terribly written," she motions to herself, yet she couldn't tear her eyes away. <Handspeech>
Mikilos sighs, very pointedly NOT holding a book. Though he is still present. Guest appearance and all, though not in this edition. "This isn't even the cheesy parts. I think it's the next chapter that seems to take it as a challenge to use 'throbbing' in every sentence." Because of course.
"I know. Bleah!" Lily signs, although her 'bleah' sign is crossed with one for farts, so it's more of a 'blart'. Still silent. Still deadly. She makes some noise hammering on Papalotl's nest, the crafty bronze-scale making some adjustments and opting out of the reading circle. "You'll appreciate it when you're older." <handspeech>
"He pressed her against the railing, bending her backwards over it. His hand..." Cryo narrates, having taken the biggest reading roll for herself. Silently she continues ahead, "I don't think that is anatomically possible. Are these gnomes or jotuns?"
"I thought I was a Jotun." Xochi growls.
"I thought they were both gnomes." Zama suggests, from her hiding place. "They weren't ducking lintels and complaining how rickity the benches were every time the enter a scene.
The scent of a real, perfectly pickled gnome washes over them, his protests to his escorts becoming audible. "Oh, Jinks! Is it possible for..." Cryo starts to ask, and then abandons the question. She skips accusing him of being drunk, that's obvious. Instead she carefully asks, "What happened?"
Many lizard heads look his way.
Offering an exasperated gesture when Cryosanthia acknowledges him, Jinks turns a quirked eyebrow up at his escort (who sees fit to quit the field and return to his posting). The gnome pats his pony and makes a clicking sound with his mouth, gesturing and sending the animal off to find a quiet spot to rest. It's actually quite impressive how well the two communicate these days.
"I saw Aya," Jinks says after a look left and right. He's frowning and hurried and, yes, a little drunk. "Well, it wasn't her but a facsimile-- a construct of a sort." He pauses, taking a breath as he tries to sort his jumbled thoughts. "Seldan has resolved to kill her. The REAL Aya."
Jinks notices Lily a little too late and clenches his jaw, muttering a curse under his breath.
Aryia can't help but snerk at Lily's motions, agreeing with the brass-scale. Though, she furrows her brow as the reading circle continues. She squints, looking back and forth between a few pages. They were right, this was all over the place. Shit, she could write a better one herself!
That thought isn't entertained for very long, dashed to the wayside as she joins in looking over towards where the gnome came in. She blinks, concern crossing her features.
And her crimson visage washes away back to its grey. The faintest flicker of hope dawns across her eyes, but goes away just as brisk as it came. She sets her book down, her lips turned down in a frown. "This... doesn't surprise me," she motions slowly. "Is everyone okay?" <Handspeech>
Mikilos blinks at Jinks a couple times. "...I feel I've missed an important chapter in this story. -Seldan- is advocating murder now?" The elf hasn't been the most up to date with all thye various commings and goings of the situation.
"What?" Cryosanthia says.
"Whats?" Lily echoes, then adds, "Tia Ay-ayss?"
"Ah... ah.." Cryo is sitting up now, staring Jinks, wanting to stare at Jinks but looking at Lily instead. "We're... we're not going to let that happen, Lily. Papalotl can you... can you take Lily and do something loud?"
Xochi, the red-scale is also sitting up, crouched defensively over her eggs. "Who is this! I'll kill him!"
"Big Sisster wantss stay. Almossst adult!" Lily insists, which is true.
Cryo holds her hand out in a calming motion, fixing a stare on her daughter. "Lily, there are some things you shouldn't hear. Trust me. Please go up the rope, and when we're done, and you can hear the plans, I'll ask you down. You know about secrets. You know about too many knowing secrets."
They stare. The carnation scale lowers her head, approaches Cryo, who carefully nuzzles her then helps her climb the rope trick to an extra-dimensional space where she can see down, but not hear. The white-scale sighs, "Mikilos, this one wishes she could cast Mage's magic mansion. I will never have the power, but maybe you can help me research a weaker version. Anyhow..."
Another defeated sigh, "Aryia, Jinks, could you catch Mikilos up."
Cryo also gestures at Mikilos and points at the rope, "Could you put a silence around the top of that?
Throat bruised but otherwise-intact, Jinks offers a nod to Aryia. He walks over, closer, and tosses out his cloak before sitting cross-legged among the nests. His flask is produced while he waits for Mikilos to raise arcane baffling, taking the most-recent of the evening's bolstering nips.
"Aya gave herself into the service of... Him in order to save Lily." The gnome, clearly, is frustrated by this fact, shaking his head and issuing a heavy sigh. "She's been enthralled and a pawn since. Even with the archdevil dead his minions seem to have control of her... She was trying to steal a book of prophecy from the Academy today."
"Seldan thinks her beyond saving. Says she asked for him to end her if this happened."
Aryia sighs, the mood ruined with their reading as she returns the book back to the outside nest of the book hoarder. She listens quietly, nodding slowly. "Yes. She did say for that to happen. To strike her down."
Double checking Lily was gone, she gestures more. "Her body is a puppet. Aya isn't in there. Her soul is in the Halls. I..." she gulps, fidgeting with her hands. "Seyardu knows her soul is in there. I secured aid with a Mourner, Ashlee, and Seyardu to perhaps go there to face a trial to get it back. He is wrong. She is not beyond saving." <Handspeech>
Mikilos starts towards the rope, murmuring a few moments and gesturing. Not the typical use for the spell, but some requests are to be fulfilled. Listening to Jinks, he frowns, but nods. "Okay, if it's at her request, it becomes understandable. Disagree, but understand. You say she was at the Academy, or the clone you mentioned?" He listens... well, watches... Aryia's explanation, and nods. "So a little of both."
"She left goodbye packages, to myself, Aryia, Daechir, and ..." One other, that Cryo doesn't name, who never shared the contents. She crouches lower, as if to protect her clutch from the words she speaks. The other Nest-Mothers have shifted, books closed, to listen intently. There's even a sound from within Zama's book-fort. She moves closer to the door. When no one is watching, the returned book vanishes.
"In mine she said I gave her family, and she wished peace on my nest. Her broach was on the blanket Lily was returned to me. After she..."
She won't say the words.
Eyes closed, the whitescale continues. "Seldan did assert that she said that. He said many things at a time when I was confused and I believe I was asked to kill two people. Anyhow, as I remember it, which is fuzzy, I think her body is being controlled by a demon and she's imprisoned inside herself, like a Magic Jar."
"Oh right I'm missing Aryia's signs. I had a thing for that. Gah. Um."
"I need to help if I can, Aryia." Jinks doesn't look up from his lap. His voice is practically a croak as he rubs at his neck. "I know Seyardu won't want it... but anything." He looks over at the mul'niessa with his solid black eyes, pleading.
The gnome rolls onto his knees, standing and stumbling and standing again as he walks to Cryosanthia. He sings, finding the melody easily with the spirit's warmth in his belly. A ringed hand rests lightly on the side of the sith-makar's face, briefly, and then slides back near the a hole leading to her tympanum.
"I've got it," he mutters.
GAME: Jinks casts Tongues. Caster Level: 10 DC: 19
Aryia purses her lips, listening to everything. She breathes In. And exhale Out. "Then come with us. We've have to do some kind of trial. Just know we may have to die to get in there. And then /maybe/ Vardama will let us back. I think. I don't know. I don't care. I want my fucking sister back."
Another breath In. Another one Out. "Cryosanthia. Her soul isn't even in her body. It's in the Halls," she repeats to the whitescale. <Handspeech>
Mikilos considers. "Getting to the Halls is easy enough, but you're right, getting back out can be troublesome. Slightly less so for the living, but the Grey Lady watches her exits close. That said, I've always found visits to be pleasant enough."
"Thanks Jinks," Cryosanthia says softly, her hand brushing against his back. Her palm cold. She leans her head into his touch, and keeps a pressure on him, guiding him to sit outside her nest. She sniffs, inhaling his scent, the alcohol, and understanding all that tells her. "You're safe here. Even Xochi will protect you."
"Don't count on it." The red-scale grumbles, but she is watching, like a malevolent little dragoness.
"I also, Aryia, you know. What she gave up for me. She's counting on us, to have faith and to find a way."
Then Mikilos gets the sideways glance, and a snort. "I never did hear how you died a second time. Or the third. You've died less than Merek, right? And, okay, in the Halls."
"Is it just go to the halls, or is there more?"
Jinks offers a small smile and sits with his back to the nest. He draws one knee up and folds his other leg under him. Another little song and he's rubbing the bruises away from his neck, remembering belatedly that such a thing is within his power.
"'Harpist spit me out twice already," the gnome smirks at Aryia, affecting a bit of braggadocio. "And I imagine Cesran wouldn't mind an excuse for another kiss..."
Aryia raises a brow, her resolved visage smeared now with confusion. "Fuck if I know," she gestures to Mikilos. "I don't know how this plane shit works."
Glowing gaze rests on Cryosanthia. "The only faith I have is in the friends and family I've made along the way. We will find a way, even if I have to rip it out of the Harper's hands."
The mute mul blinks at Jinks. Her lips move silently. 'What...?' <Handspeech>
Mikilos grins to Cryo. "Just the two times. Auto cannon thru the chest, and archdemon blade... again thru the chest, come to think of it. And then a few times visited alive via shifting planes. But that was just casual research, I'm not clear the protocol for going on business to retrieve a soul. The Mourners know far more about it than I, though we tend to corroborate on those who -shouldn't- have come back.... partly back? Undead, how ever you care to phrase it."
GAME: Braelnoir rolls intimidate+2: (17)+9+2: 28 (Success!)
"Yer not goin'." comes the firm declaration of a familiar voice.
Brae, returning from 'taking care of business' (she had to pee), pushes past a leafy partition to fix the palescale with a look that one would be hard pressed to assign her time as a Sergeant, or an Egg Watcher to refining.
Probably a little bit of both, honestly.
Seeing the others, the Korite steps closer, lifting a hand to wave to the gathered before drawing up close to hand.
A look to Aryia, Jinks and Mikilos, then, in the wake of the latter's notation she comments simply, "Ouch."
"Of course I'm..." Cryo starts off firmly, turning face Braelnoir, then meeting that gaze. Their eyes lock. She resists for a moment, and then melts, crouching lower on her nest. That look is too much.
It tells her everything, that has been said in person and in dreams. Her eyes go to the torn merc's ear. Where an earring was; an earring that Lily now wears, and a promise that was made. Her scale-sister is right, and Cryo has to listen to her.
She owes her, and Braelnoir has the right to tell her to sit on her nest. Protect her eggs. It's what an Egg-watcher does, it's what family does. As the whitescale sinks lower she can feel the touch of the cozies against her scales.
More lives than her own are on the line, still. She grins awkwardly, "Hi Brae. Um. Ha. Yeah. Any plan that starts with 'first you die', is bad one, right?"
"Telmentar's kiss," Jinks tells Aryia, shaking his head and smiling. "A spell to bring the just-dead back from the Harpist's halls before they properly arrive. When the archdevil's shadow fell on me I was done," the gnome glances briefly at Mikilos, then back to the pugilist, "but Cesran was quick enough to snatch me back."
The bard looks between Braelnoir and Cryosanthia, grinning in spite of himself. A look down at the flask he's been fidgeting with and he's tucking it away, back under his coat.
Aryia sits upright as the sudden appearance of the Korite. It unsettles Aryia as well, her brushing her hair back the hide the glimmer of a second-guess on her face.
No. She had to be resolved about this. She was. Is. Am.
The mute raises a brow to Jinks. It takes her a moment to 'get it', but as she does, she chuffs and nods slowly. She watches him a moment, then softly sighs to herself, her leaning over to put a hand on his shoulder.
Mikilos nods thoughtfully. "I'm sure your assistance is most welcome Cryo, but that doesn't mean jumping planes, especially to the Halls of the dead." He nods to Jinks. "I assume that's the same as Breath of Life? I don't recall any kissing, but admit I was highly distracted at the time."
The staredown doesn't take long as sapphire lowers before amber, but the subtle shift of her foot in it's wake suggest that she isn't completely ignorant of how close a thing that was.
As Cryo cozies up and glances up to a-?
Oh, yeah, that.
The merc's hand lifts to brush her hair back over her shoulder, an action that in weeks past would have set her absent memento mori to dancing a hangman's jig, then the limb alights on a scaled shoulder.
"Idea's not usually t'die fer yer cause, it's making th'other bastard die fer his." she notes thoughtfully. Usualy does leave some leeway, however, "That's what critters like me'r for."
It's the Halls, not the Battlefield.
It isn't the same.
It'd be another near-miss.
A visit to see the work gets done.
"Yes, ah, of course. Yes." Cryo is still a little shaken. Across the way, Xochi snickers, hissing with amusement, and directs a rare smile at Brealnoir. The red-scale likes the cut of her jib. Or was it bodice, what were they reading.
Cryo's tail curls around, tailtip touching Jinks, and she remains low over her eggs, though with an exhale she manages to focus her thoughts and gazes at Aryia.
"Where did you get the information Aya is in the hells and not in her body? Have you spoken with Verna? She's a Mourner we know, and she could help."
This is followed by a long exhales, "Oh scales Brae, I don't want to ask Merek, he's been through so much and he's unstable. I just don't know."
"I thought this would be easier with Eclavdran dead.
And the silver-haired merc is hit by an unexpected weight of scales, a surprise drop attack by Little Fang, out of the extra-dimensional rope-trick space her Ssassa has been using to keep her things in. Lily squeals, "Tiaa Braessss!"
It's only been a few minutes, but Little Fang makes it seem like months since she's seen her other Tia.
Jinks was in the process of offering Aryia a confident smile and a wink in response to her gesture-- he's fine, really-- when Lily drops out of nowhere. The gnome flinches and lowers his head, arms crossing over it until he sorts out the kobold's exclamatory exultation. The gnome sighs and unfolds again, stretching out the leg that'd been curled beneath him. "(Mulria's sideways smile...)" he mutters in Gnomish, breathless.
A look at Mikilos and he nods once. "The same, yes, and there likely wasn't. Luckbringers will call it the kiss." A sigh and he folds his arms, "But Cesran should be so lucky."
Aryia nods slightly at Brae's insights, though she looks up at the whitescale, her tilting her head to the side. "I have, and she shouldn't help. Not right now. I spoke with another Mourner. A-S-H-L-E-E, she has agreed to help. She has, uh, experience with this apparently."
And the topic of Aya tends to make things go a little crazy around certain folks, she doesn't mention.
She flinches from Little Fang dropping out of no where, but shakes her head with a shuddering sigh to keep her nerves about her. A glance to the gnome.
She twist her head to the side. "Who is M-U-L-R-I-A you always mutter about?" she questions with a hand. <Handspeech>
Mikilos nods, tsking mildly. "Never have cared for different names in different languages. Nicknames is one thing, but the divine are still the same, whatever language or country."
Braelnoir is mid wink to the ruby when it happens.
The Korite buckles a touch under the sudden ambush, and her hands twitch slightly toward her belt adornments before she checks her instincts. Her eyes close with a sigh, and her arms lift slowly to enfold the happy, squirmy kobold in an awkward over-her-head hug, "Hey squirt! Got me on that one, ya did!" she notes in a jovial tone, then moves to pluck her loose to cradle in her arms....
For a quick rasberry to the belly.
She looks up in time to catch Aryia's sign and she cocks her head a touch, "Ash's an odd duck, but she'll do you straight, luv, no worries, there."
She glances to Jinks on his observation and noes, "Cesran seems like a solid guy, but I ain't done no field work with'm." Lily squirms, as her scales are raspberried, all tail and flailing limbs.
"Little Fang," There are Cryo's serious Nest-Mother tones, "We're not quite done yet, you need to stay up the rope."
Somewhat reluctantly, the little pink-scale clambers over Braelnoir's shoulder, grabs a rope and vanishes into other-space where she can silently lurk and spring again.
Cryo watches, until she's sure she's out of ear-shot. "Cesran is. He was with me in the Sea, he told me that he, Serene, Seldan and Verna managed to defeat Eclavdran by... well exposing their souls enough that he was vulnerable and they could dispatch him. It knocked them all out, Seldan was the worst, and I haven't heard anything after. He seemed fine at the New Year's Party."
She lets a few things go unsaid, "He didn't want to speak. I gave Lily's... well, Aya's broach to Cesran to help scry on her. I haven't heard what results that produced.
Her eye ridges crease, a frown, "Do I know Ashes? Which Mourner is that?"
Unobserved, Lily sticks a hand out of rope-space and signs at Jinks, "Mulria's Sideways Smile!" She's very good at catching things she shouldn't. <handspeech>
Jinks smirks at Mikilos and looks askance at Aryia. "She of False Hope, Taara," he explains as he covers his heart with both hands; a gesture of warding. Smiling faintly, he leans more heavily against Cryosanthia's nest and says, "I'm surprised the Myrrish names aren't more commonly used in Alexandria, frankly, but my faiths and cosmology tutor hailed from Ecclesia, a nation in Myrddion just south of the Sky Curtains and across Khazad Duin."
Another smirk at Mikilos and he shrugs, "'Coyote laughs' is from my travels south. We said 'Laughing One's mirth' in Clockwork Point." The gnome is momentarily wistful but he catches himself this side of lengthy reverie.
By way of explanation for Cryosanthia's benefit, he concentrates and his features take on a goblinoid shape and the coloration changes entirely. Then there's the facial makeup. All-in-all it's a good likeness; Ashes makes a strong impression. When he relaxes the illusion reverts.
"When they touch the fiend's memories they risk His personality overwhelming them. Seldan and Verna have been trying to gain insight into certain matters but it's... not exactly safe." Another look is tossed Aryia-wards as he knows she's had to deal with that once already.
Aryia looks up to Cryosanthia, her snickering a bit at the raspberries delivered before shaking her head. "Long story short, the people involved with his demise have some of his memories jammed in their head. Saying the wrong thing around them tends to set them off. I think sister is included in that. Hence why I didn't ask Verna. Basically, we learned her body is popping all over Charn. But Seyardu learned from a... djiin? I think that's the sign. About her soul. If they're wrong, then, we just go to the Halls for nothing." She kinda blabbers it all out in sign.
The mute's question being answered makes her brow twitch some. There's recognition, then an old, old expression of a latent reverence, followed by an intense scowl. "Ah, right, I remember now..." it trails off, lost in some old resurfaced memory.
The glance to her gets her attention, and she rubs her neck. "... yes. Uh. I kind of had to beat the shit out of Verna once. Literally knock her senses back." <Handspeech>
With a nod Jinks adds, "Seldan nearly drew his crowded sword on the paladina and I."
Mikilos frowns thoughtfully. "Memories in their head? Not so clean a victory as had hoped. Suppose are ways, but messing with memory is tricky business. Had enough of that with the Fae."
"That's the sign." Brae assures the mute with a quick gesture in kind. <handsign>
Her eyes flit between the others as they talk, absently giving her niece a boost up to the rope, before she comments, glancing at Cryo with a smile of odd humor at her lips, "Yeah... been there before." she notes cryptically.
She shrugs toward Mikilos to remark, "Clean victory's a helluva rare thing'n my experience." then turns to Cryo, "Hobgoblin, 'bout my size, grey skin, has a few pets."
Most of Cryo's things are in the rope-space above her nest, including her clothes. She's showing a lot of scales and all her patterns, though the gift shawl and blankets are spread around enough she's not completely on display.
One thing she hasn't tucked away is her gloves, and underneath them, a ring on her right hand. One that took the space of one that was there a long, long time. She absently brushes it, attempting to rotate it through the cloth. "I've tried to duplicate Salina's memory manipulation, erasing memories, sharing them, sifting through them. I don't have her skill; I've had a few successes."
She squeezes her lips together, "Well, I'll offer to Cesran, maybe he'll trust me in his mind."
Jink's portrayal of the hobgoblin Mourner, coupled with Brae's description gets a nod, "Oh right, from the wanted poster. I've seen her about a few times. We never talked." The ashen Arvec doesn't seem to talk much.
She exhales, and it's cooler around her, "He's drawn on me, several times Jinks, or in my presence it seems like often enough. To be fair I've bitten him a couple times." Her jaw works, she can recall the taste of his blood, still. It's not a happy memory.
"Okay, So, don't ask them about him or Aya, got it, and poor Verna."
"The simulacra have Aya's memories and speak with her voice." Jinks adds, circling back around to what brought him here. "At least she was able to speak to things with me that most others would be hard-pressed having knowledge of.
"But it didn't look exactly like her, either; I thought it was a disguise initially but maybe not. Things happened very quickly after a point." The gnome frowns. "We were looking for a book of prophecies. The arcanists were hoping to find a solution to the Stygian Empire's expansion efforts over a prosperous little island nation. Its king was dead and the Charneth had kidnapped his heir some years ago, never seeking ransom. Now they think their hostage gives them claim to the lands..."
The bard lowers a hand and gives Cryosanthia's cool tail a light squeeze when she recalls past strife between her and Seldan.
Aryia's gives a thankful nod to Braelnoir. "And yes, Ashlee is sort of... uh... she's a character. But, to be honest, I've a little more respect for her recently."
The mute's brows pinch at Cryo's mention of helping. "The memories are so strong it overwhelms them and makes them lash out. Cesran nearly blew up someone. Who fucking knows what will happen if you go rooting around in there." It's a warning.
Her attention swings to Jinks. She's mostly silent (as usual), but there's a sort of concern that goes through her. Then... epiphany?
"... if it's a fake Aya. Then... maybe that's why Cesran's spells is thinking she's all over Charn? Maybe there's multiple fake Aya's? Or.. ugh, for fuck's sake. I'm going to slap that bitch when I see her," she sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Maybe they can't copy her just right. Who knows." <Handspeech>
Mikilos considers. "Clones are difficult to make, and more than one is.... problematic. Seems it can be done, but if knew a little more of what technique they used, might figure out some sort of counter. The clones being allergic to cold iron, or some such.
The Korite's arms fold at the revelation of certain.... things that may need clarification.
It'll take consideration and more information.
Meanwhile, she nods to Aryia, then comments aloud, "It also calls to question, 'why?'. I can see someone with her tricks bein' a useful spy, assuming the copies have them too, but if they just mostly look an' talk like her, they seem more a ploy ta occupy us."
Her head shakes, "Keep us from focusin' on a bigger prize. Only way I see that balancin' against what I assume's a huge resource investment."
Cryo curls her tail about Jinks a little more and her tailtip flops in his lap, a clumsy and indelicate appendage. The underside of which has a marking, three interlocked circles, partially visible.
The whitescale nods, repeating details, "like her but not her, has her memories, some sort of simulacra."
She looks down at him, "You didn't find anything about Egalrin in that research did you? Brae and I had the weirdest diplomatic experience in the Ravenlord's lands, and there's... mm... we'd need a Mage's Private Sanctum to talk further about that."
She watches Aryia's signs, and her warning. "Lots of things do that. Kol compelled me all the time, and, well ask Brae about Lars sometime, and Maverick. I know it's not safe, it's been rather common. It's hard to tell how 'overwhelming' the overwhelming control is going to be."
She hisses, inhaling through her teeth, a horrible thought striking. "Maybe they chopped her or her brain up into little pieces and each one has a piece. Did you find anything after the one you encountered was slain?"
Cryo looks at Jinks, grimacing, then back at Aryia, and finally off to no where in particular, "Salina used to make people out of people, or parts of people. ... And snow."
Mikilos gets her full attention next, "You went against her when Salina was a clone, right? When we went to rescue ... everyone from her tower? Hers seemed, really real, any idea on how?"
"She used to kidnap kids then send back fake adult versions of them. Or maybe the real version aged, through the time teleportation circle." The whitescale rubs at her forehead, "You'd think I know her techniques better I spent so much time there. The Plague Oozes were originally oozes that Zeheir created to constantly repair the tower, and they got corrupted over time. Eclavdran was bound there. He might have figured something else out, but... the Mistress did come to warn us, maybe he's using, used, ideas he stole from her."
Cryo sits up, arching and stretching, "Well, there was that prophecy, which Seyardu took. I think she said you translated it Mikilos, and those statues of his consort. Maybe this is to keep us dealing with her, and the minions, while they... do something. I mean, she was sent to play keep away with a different prophecy. What was that one about?"
"She's fast and strong and can blink into places many can't," Jinks tells Braelnoir matter-of-factly. "She can enter almost any situation armed without a single weapon on her person. She's quiet, too, and determined." He looks down at the sith-makar tail and is momentarily at a loss. He manages to approximate halfway in between what you might do holding someone's hand and cradling a cat in your lap.
"I watched her kill her lover with one punch," the gnome adds with a deep frown. A shrug and he offers, "Seems like a useful agent to me."
A shake of the head and he responds to Cryosanthia, half-turning to look from the corner of his black-on-black eye at her. "Seldan managed two rays of disintegration to destroy the creation. Verna," he adds, turning back to Mikilos and Aryia, "said her necromancies were less effective on the thing." Maybe that's helpful?
"We pulled the book she tried to eat and abscond with from the... remains." The gnome grimaces, repulsed at the memory. "The wizards were quick to clean the room..."
Finally, he looks at Aryia. "Do you have your journal? I can conjure a Memory of the prophecies."
"Cryo, you need to headline better, you're all over the place. That was, eight different topics." Zama complains from the book fort. "Jinks does it much better."
Aryia shifts a bit uncomfortably under Cryosanthia's musings. And more. Then, she kind of bluntly gestures, "Can we not talk about my sister being chopped up into teeny tiny pieces? Please? Thanks."
She'd like to have the last memory of her hale.
She glances to Jinks, and nods slowly. As she hands her speaking journal over to him, she adds with her other hand, "Yes. Aya can kill someone with one punch. And most of her things deal with shadow. So maybe a bright as fuck light will help."
The journal, at some pages, just has a number of day to day things written in it. Though one of the more recent 'conversation' pieces is:
"Do you have the most recent release of the Crimson Quill?"
"Do you recommend it?"
"I'll take two copies."
The mute seems to realizes this too late and is halfway towards flailing for it. <Handspeech>
Yeah... Brae's got nothing for that.
Well, she shoots Cryo a sort of incredulous look, so there's that.
Then, "A'ight, so... probably an even bigger investment than I thought." she notes almost numbly.
Mikilos nods to Cryo. "A simulacrum. Sort of a clone made from snow, almost a golem. I'm familiar with the spell, but don't own a copy. At the time, I was fully fooled by it." To Jinks he frowns mildly. "Suggests isn't properly alive, perhaps crafted from corpse flesh, or just an animation of some type. I don't know as much about golems as I'd like, the Guild has been quite disapproving of work with them. Self-aware War Golems are one thing, but automations are quite another, it seems." .. "I thought for a while I was one, that I'd bleed blue if cut." Cryo admits, "or there's another of me out there. I met one that bled black, but that was... that was really me."
She lowers her head, "I'm sorry Aryia. I say things that hurt. I don't know how to stop doing that. Part of brainstorming for me is to say whatever comes to mind. I'll stop."
Another slow exhale, and her tailtip squirms in Jinks' lap somewhat like a large, cold cat, "I've seen her fight. I could last a little bit against her, but not long." She shakes her head, "Not very long at all. I can stop her teleporting."
GAME: Jinks rolls Perform/Sing: (13)+22: 35 (as Bluff)
Jinks hands the journal back without seeing anything on the pages, asking, "Write for me, please. This takes a fair amount of concentration." A glance at Braelnoir and then any of the watching sith who haven't seen this particular trick before. "It's a memory pulled from the Weave. Not a ghost or spirit. There's no need to worry..."
The gnome just holds onto the tail light. Trying to offer proximity and comfort the same way Cryosanthia has done for him many times in their odd little friendship. He refrains from stroking or petting to avoid any mixed signals.
Onyx-black eyes go heavy-lidded and glassy as the bard falls into the memory and the mourner Verna is sitting next to him, resting a book in her lap and tracing the lines with her fingers. It is clearly not the woman but the idea of her is crystal clear.
"In Taara's maw sits I. The soul of twins now divided. The hand of dark it seeks to take. To tear what was whole asunder. In Taara's maw sits I. Reborn from Grey Halls. King of Prophecy. Hand that Wields the Sword. She seeks to taint the innocent. She seeks to become innocent. Divided now the twins of souls. In Taara's maw waits I."
The memory finishes, turning a page, and seems ready to recite another but she pulls back into the Weave as her voice echoes empty and wordless.
"..." Jinks blinks, pushing his eyebrows together and looking for all the world as if he's thinking as hard as he can. Finally, he sucks his teeth and issues a sigh. "Sorry," a look up and around, "I can do the other tomorrow..."
Aryia takes the journal back with a bit of a fluster on her visage. Though, she rubs at her face, then looks up at Cryosanthia. She shakes her head, scooting closer to pat the whitescale on the side. "It's fine," she motions. "No harm."
She looks to Jinks, blinks, then quickly starts to scribble things down on a blank page. The memory played out gives her pause. But then, it's scribed down. It's checked, doubled check, then triple checked before she actually begins to read it.
She squints some, scratching her head. "... this is kind of weird..." she signs slowly. <Handspeech>
Mikilos frowns thoughtfully at the.... poem? But has no insight to offer at this moment.
Braelnoir fidgets slightly, and there is a flash across her features like she smelt something she'd rather not have, as the display begins.
Fucking Lars.
She thinks of Catacaustic and her subjects(?), of the play the Korite had been enslaved into participating in.
An enchantment that sullied an otherwise very satisfying battle, because in the end, she wasn't there of her own choice as she'd thought at the time.
The battle itself was fine, but not.... chosen.
Regardless, Brae takes this all in, then, "We can probly tanglefoot'r down, if'n we can keep that teleport from bein' a thing." she notes. The contact on her tailtip, and the touch from Aryia, reassure the whitescale. She watches as the memory of Verna appears, and recites, and commits that to her memory. She's a Speaker, not a bard, but some techniques overlap. "It has a good cadence." She comments randomly.
She rubs Jinks' back again, a firm, cold contact, "Tomorrow will be fine. Don't push yourself, and you need to drink some water."
She snorts, "Braelnoir can show you where to pee." Giggles follow.
Xochi, Papalotl, Metztli and even Nahuatl stared at the show. The other lizard women are for the moment, quiet and considering it.
"I... need to think about it, a bit. Aya used to follow Taara, but left her, and she was marked as Maugrim's weapon, and I don't think she's that anymore either."
"I promise, I promise, if you ever get a message from me it will be clear, 'go left at the fork five miles outside of town'." Cryo sighs, "I have to hit her to stop her teleporting, and that puts me in range of the one punch death."
"It might not be about Aya." Jinks advises, nodding in agreement with Aryia's assessment. "The first prophecy she read was about a sword. 'Pull that sword from your soul, kid.' And there was a note in the margin about darkness and a well. It sounds like the paladina's quest.
"We were sent to find prophecies to do with this nation and the missing heir but it's possible they're unrelated. Mulria and Goddess Dreaming fight over magic. Could that be Animus' soul? The Resurrectionists seek to renew their pact. I don't know if Animus was ever called 'King of Prophecy.' Her becoming innocent and wanting to taint the innocent? Move from her seat at the table of darkness?"
The bard shrugs and smiles softly when Cryosanthia pats his back. "I'll grab some water from the border guard before I had back," he promises, setting aside the sith-makar tail and standing. "Enness needs to get back to the stables." The dandy dusts his rump and futzes with his cloak, canting his head at Aryia and Mikilos. "Heading back tonight or staying over?"
Jinks needs to duck Paenitia for a day or two. For NO REASON.
Aryia sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose as she's trying to parse out the meaning of it all. "Maybe..." she offers to Brae. But hitting that woman was hard in the first place.
She nods in agreement with Jinks. "That makes sense. I don't think Aya would be wrapped up in some kind of far flung prophecy like this. Despite the similarities..."
A long sigh leaves her, and she looks up to the man getting ready to go. She ponders it a moment, then rises to her feet. "Braelnoir is here, so, I should swap out now. I can head back with you." Without asking, she'd help guard him too. Peace of mind for the muse.
She totally scoops up that book she was reading earlier, too. <Handspeech>
Mikilos waves vaugly. "I'll teleport most of the way back, fly the remainder. Have some books to read yet tonight."
Braelnoir takes all of this in, coloring only faintly at the suggestion she give directions to the latrines at it were.
A hand reaches out for the Mul'niessa, lightly clasping a shoulder, as the other hand signs a quick, "You're relieved." in the slightly different gestures of <Merctalk>
She glances between the departing, catching a glint from the pebbles scales of her shoulder, but suppress the impulse.
Later for that.
Instead, she valedicts, "Live free'r die well."
"Drink a lot of water, until you feel like you'll burst. Your head will thank you." Cryo advises, watching Jinks prepare to leave. She beckons, and Lily appears from rope-space, and clambers down the rope. She hugs Brealnoir around the knee, and then Aryia, whom she can reach higher on. After which the pinkscale crawls into Cryo's nest and curls up beside the eggs.
Crysanthia adjusts the blankets, and then stretches herself out, curling up the opposite way. "Best to sleep on it. There may be two puzzles, with the same shape pieces, the big picture extra confusing."
The discussion, and the reading session, seemingly both adjourned, the other Nest-Mothers arrange themselves to sleep.
Tayanna, the black-scale Egg-Watcher gives a 'come here' gesture towards Braelnoir. There's some watching to do.
"Thank you Aryia, Mikilos, Jinks, for coming, and you for staying Brae, it's appreciated." Cryo says. Lily adds, "Peasssce on your Nesssts."
When no one is looking, Xochi opens her crimson book and stays up, reading ahead.
OOC
Not quite the Crimson Pen but close enough
<OOC> Cryosanthia says, "Have you seen the Lusty Argonian Maid comics?"
<OOC> Cryosanthia says, "It starts here, https://www.furaffinity.net/view/21183136/"
<OOC> Cryosanthia says, "and this is the directory of them, https://www.furaffinity.net/gallery/valsalia/folder/699205/Lusty-Argonian-Maid-d"
<OOC> Mikilos says, "I'd question your knowledge of Furaffinity, but then you might answer, and not sure I'm ready for that"