View source for The Night Blossoms Under the North Star

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== Log Info ==
*Title: The Night Blossom Under the North Star
*Emitter: Aryia
*Characters: Aryia, Venom
*Place: Fernwood Pub, Aryia's Rented Room
*Time: October 17th. 2021
*Summary: 

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== ==


:: ''Fernwood Pub, Aryia's Rented Room, Duskfall''

In...

Out...

The shadow elf's room had been tidied and squared away. Bolts of cloth neatly leaning against the wall. Completed works hung up in the wardrobe and neatly folded away. 

The light was on, this time, and it flickered and fluctuated as Aryia was sitting on the bed, dressed down in her casual wear with her legs crossed and her back resting agaisnt the wall.

Despite the noise downstairs going on, she looked to be completely relaxed, and tuned out to the world around her.

In...

Out...

Outside the room, in the hallway beyond, there are the inevitable sounds of footfalls traversing the hall, in themselves, nothing unusual.

Except they come to a stop just beyond the door.

t-t-tap, t-t-tap, t-t-tap sounds softly against the planked wood of the portal.

In... Ou-

Aryia's eyes blearily open. Damn, only just now was getting the hang of that. Though, such annoyance was short lived as she recognized the pattern. She warmly smiles to herself, sliding out of bed and half padding/half skipping over to the door. A lock flicks open, and the door creaks ajar.

The mute woman's scarred visage peeks out, eyes aglow like bright little lanterns as she rubs her left arm.


Outside, as would be expected, is Venom, though, there, it seems expectations must abide fate.

Part of her rough, leather undermask is exposed by the missing corners of the paired veils, exposing the outline of her jaw, as well as the buckled strap that locks her teeth together. The very tips of her gloved left hand peek out just enough to clutch her sundered poncho together, the black oilcloth tinted along it's new hem with a dark, almost ruddy hue that's since lost most of it's copper tang.

Her other hand lifts with a little fingerwave on sight of the elf, but she predictably says nothing before witnesses.


Aryia's warm visage pauses, then slowly fades to a neutral, serious expression. Eyes filled with worry. Briskly, she steps aside and opens the door wide.

Once Venom was properly in, the door gently shuts. And hands ask a simple, if firm, question. "All I want to know is if you're okay," she gestures, taking slow steps forward. A hand reaches forward to comfort, but stops short, unsure of the extent of... whatever it was. <Handspeech>


Venom steps inside as Aryia guides her thus, and, predictably, makes nary a sound until the door is closed. She hums a soft sigh and nods, ruffling the veils.

One hand rises to fuss at the fastening of her veils, while the other relents on it's support of the poncho to give a thumbs-up, then rises to unlatch the sturdier portion of her adventurous seeming.

Freed, now, though half veiled as her tousseled silken hair as she sets the rainments aside, she offers an uneasy smile beneath knitted brows, skin matted with sweat as she, inexplixably flounders for words. Her lips are moving, but it takes her a couple of tries to actually utter, "H-hi, honey...!"

A swallow, "Seyardu was there... ah... she healed us after the fight..."


Aryia relaxes some as a thumbs up is flashed, her worries stemming for the most part. A weak smile crosses her lips at the endearment. "You're... okay. And that's all that matters," she signs back, rubbing at her arm for a moment before stepping off to the side. She grabs a rag along the way and picks up a waterskin. Dousing the rag, she returns to Venom and gets up on her tip toes.

Gently, she wipes the sweat off Venom's face, fingers brushing the skin in a caring manner. "Seyardu is a good healer. I'm glad she was there." <Handspeech>


Venom shivers with a soft sigh, eyes drifting shut as the cool cloth wipes away the unfortunate side effect of her paranoia. Up close, though, it's clear that whatever did the business was a single slash from something very sharp, that scored a breast on it's way down across her torso, based on the red hems of the cotton shirt that is only held closed by the cinch of her trousers, with flashes of a fresh, angry scar beneath.

"She is..." she starts, lifting her hand to gently cup Aryia's cheek as she seeks her eyes, "How... how's your arm, sweetie?"


Aryia's eyes widen ever so slightly as she sees the extent of the singular slice. "V..." she softly hisses, wiping away the sweat as her eyes don't leave the cut. Seyardu healed her. Which mean it should still be perfectly fine. The mute relaxes some. She starts to help pull off more of the paranoia, veils and poncho, to get Venom more relaxed.

Her eyes flick back to dark pools, cheek plopping itself into a hand out of habit. She rolls her left shoulder. "Better. Almost healed. Sorry for... not telling you. It was stupid of me to try that thing out in the Collosseum." <Handspeech>


Venom doesn't fight Aryia's initiative with her equipment; to whit, she may be taking it as a favor, as she mutely bends forward to make it easier to draw the heavy poncho from her body.

Yeah... that must have been a nasty cut, as the sweat matted white cotton has a ruddy slit running from the upper slope of her right breast very nearly to her left hipbone.

"It's a really complex thing you're trying to do, Aryia. I..." she colors, "Don't have the slightest idea where to start on something like that, even if I had your... elf magic."

She cradles the cheek in her hand for a few moments more, holding onto the Mul'niessa's gaze, then steps in to embrace her, "I'm just glad you're alright, sweetie."


Aryia carefully put the bits of the paranoia away on the table beside her, her eyes trailing along the line that ran across V's trunk. For some reason, she couldn't help but lightly smile. The enigma had a mark of her own.

She shakes her head. "I still barely even know my elf magic. This is... something else entirely," she starts to explain, the smile reaching her bright eyes at seeing the color. <Handspeech> 

It looked as if she was going to work her way down the wound to clean it off, but she was wrapped up in a hug. She silently chuckles, slinging the rag over her shoulder to properly loop her arms around Venom. She's up on her tip toes. 

Soft winds whisper, <small>"... a... and you as well, ussta isto tessai."</small> Her face grows hot.


Venom's hug is tender, but she doesn't wince at the joining of it, so Seyardu's healing probably did the trick. A soft kiss crowns the pale pate, and the human relaxes her hold to look into her face once more, arching an eyebrow, "Must have.... list of... ?" she tries curiously.

Seyardu does a bang up job, as per usual. So Aryia was glad to be able to hug without restraint. She melts some from the affection, her looking up at Venom with a rubor behind the scars. She blinks.

"... no that's... not what I... I really need to stop reading those stupid books," she buries her face into V's good shoulder.

...

She mumbles something into V's shoulder. <Handspeech>


The human's dark eyes see the flight of Aryia's hands as the retort begins... struggles and veers off toward, "Books?"

Epiphany lights up the young woman's features and she strokes combing fingers back through snowy locks, "Oh! I found a grappling manual at the market the other day, but I haven't had time to look at it, yet."

Her expression turns a shade of hopeful familiar to those accustomed to affection as she guilelessly muses, "Maybe we can practice, together?"

It then reaches back for one of the pockets of her wonderous pack and she withdraws a small black leatherbound book stamped along the spine:
<pre>
T
H
R
O
E
S

O
F

P
A

S
H
U
N
</pre>
With a stamped emblem of a quill at the bottom.


Aryia settles as her hissed translation was lost to Venom's epiphany. Damn, that would have been embarrassing to repeat out loud. Though, the prospect of some kind of martial arts book does pique her interest. She pulls back some, curiosity in her lamplight eyes.

A hand reaches up to take the book, and she brings the spine to her eyes.

She blinks. Glances down to the embossed quill. And blinks again.

Grey turns crimson like many times before, except this time at the snap of a finger. "... V, you... do know this series is.. about a different kind of grappling, right?" she flusters in explanation with a hand. Why would Aryia know this?<Handspeech>


Venom has a very earnest, even innocent excitement glittering in her expectant smile as Aryia seems taken with her acquisition.

This fades to some concern as her sweetie suddenly changes colors again, but much more rapidly and she fidgets a little.

"Are...?" you alright is the start of her somewhat foolish question, one that breaks off as Aryia's hands start an explaination.

Brow arch, a glance to the book, then, "You've read it, already?"


If this was, honestly, a true book on the art of grappling and unarmed techniques, Aryia would be sharing the same innocent excitement as her night blossom.

But alas, this was not the case. The mute woman gulps some and slowly nods her head. "... uh.. , uh, y... yes. Uh, this-" she taps the crimson quill, "Denotes a series of books about... well..."

Silence. "... remember the night I got back from Charn...?" she weakly explains, embarrassed. <Handspeech>


There is a slight tinge of disappointment, as it seems they won't be studying the manual together after all.

To be expected, really, as Aryia is much further along in the honing of her body as a weapon than Venom is. Still, the obsidian pools track the Mul'niessa's hand motions, faltering, hesitant though they are, until...

Until the right gears mesh.

The night flower blooms rosily as she exhales an almost silent, "Oh."


At the moment of realization, Aryia's face breaks into an even mixture of embarrassed and smiling. She gets up on her tip toes to give a small peck on the lips. "It's okay. Thank you for thinking of us. This book is... an interesting read, for sure. If you're into such things... is this the one where..?"

The elf opens it, thumbs through a few pages, reads. Then makes an 'ah,' sound. "Well there is a lot of fighting in this one. But it usually turns into... well..." her hand trails off, face still crimson. <Handspeech>


Venom seems a little embarassed, herself, and she seems about to turn for the shame of it, but the kiss scuttles the impulse before it's passed her brain stem.

Still aglow almost to the hairline, she swallows, and gently leans in to return the kiss, taking in Aryia's explanation.

Her finger rises to adjust the lay of her collar against her throat for some reason, punctuated by a short, soft tearing sound.

Ahem.

"I... do... you...?" she smiles again, this one more nervous, and she fidgets a little before completing, "Want to..."


Aryia takes the return kiss happily, if still a bit beyond embarrassed they were speaking of such literature. She looks down to the book, then up to Venom trying to vent themselves.

A brow raises. "You... want to read it?" she tries to infer. The book is looked over a few times, Aryia's gaze slowly looking off and away. "... I... uh... fuck, this is embarrassing. I've read a lot of these." <Handspeech>


Venom shrugs a little, looking down at the book as well, uncertain, "What's wrong with reading it...?" she wonders.

She tries to figure out a course of action, something to do now that she's...

OH!

Suddenly alight with new purpose, the Acanian steps over to the corner where she normally sets her gear and starts to dispense with it. The thunderbelcher stands in the corner, the steel projectile returned to a slot in her belt. Next she reaches back to retrieve something small from another side pouch before shrugging out of the haversack completely, to set it beside her weapon. Her gunbelt sets atop that. Then each glove in turn set within the boundries of the leather belt, passing the small.... whatever it is between her hands as she bares them.

That done, she has a new, heartful smile on her face, a subtle wonder sparkling in her eye, "I have something else to show you....!"


"There's nothing wrong. It's just, well, there's... a lot of... you know what? If you like it, let me know. I'll give you some good ones to read," Aryia gestures, growing more emboldened.

The mute's head tilts to the side from Venom's sudden spark of energy, she sets the book down and places the wet cloth over a chair.

Curious and intrigued, Aryia steps forward. Her glancing between the concealing hands and Venom's warm smile. One that soon her own lips morph into. <small>"Wh-t -s -t, -sst- -st- t-ss-?</small>" she hisses softly. <Handspeech>


The brunette reaches out another gentle, calloused hand to smooth back Aryia's hair, but it pauses halfway, a fingertip trailing out along the upper edge of an ear, "I'd like that, thank you, honey!" she says with the sort of smile that briefly closes the eyes.

As they reopen, her lower lip withdraws just a little under her teeth and a soft dusting of pink bridges her cheekbones, "We should get.." swallow, "Comfortable, first."

So intoned, withdraws to heft the chair and carry it in the crook of her elbow over toward the bed, seeming rather sure of her idea.....

Whatever it is.


The ear in question gives a little flick against the fingertip, her smiling softly as well. V feeling all the little bits and pieces scratched up, scarred, and outright missing.

Now Aryia was incredibly curious. She follows behind Venom like a puppy, her not saying anything. But she dips around Venom from side to side, trying to get a peek at whatever it is. Sighing cheekily in failure, the mute plops herself onto the bed and watches V with those lamplight eyes.

"How comfortable we talking?" she teases with a hint of a cheeky smile. <Handspeech>


Quietly plunking the chair down a foot or so from the edge of the bed, Venom pauses for a moment as she considers the dynamics of that question. Her weight goes hip to hip and color seasons her face again as she opens her mouth a good second before she actually starts to answer, "Ahh... maybe... that night kind of comfortable... to...." ahem, "To start...?"

The human steps quickly back over to her inventory space and, amongst other things, starts to unfasten the hidden catches of her odd boots before wiggling her sweaty little tootsies free.

It's then that she starts pulling her repair kit and a ball of twine from the haversack.....


It was Aryia's turn for her visage to grow crimson. "... that... night?" she repeats with a gesture. Not even expecting her teasing would be challenged. She gives a little nod and glides over to her wardrobe. She pulls off a few articles, and slips into her more casual wear. Short sleeves, loose pants, things she usually has on when just lounging around by her lonesome or with V. She pads back to bed and flops onto it

Curious of the unknowns of V had planned, she fidgets with the sheets as she lays on her side, her watching the brunette flit about her gear and... was that twine?

The elf's eyebrow could not go any higher. <Handspeech>


Ominous...

Nefarious...

Twine.

She does seem to be using her left hand a lot tonight.

Very sinister, indeed.

Venom pads over toward the chair and takes a knee, working the cordage to unroll her gunsmithing kit.

She seems so locked onto her little project that she hasn't noticed the warm glow of Aryia's blush.

A small cloth bundle is very carefully set on the seat, then she takes a small armature from one of the pouches.

She then starts to work a contrived web of twine around the frame of the chair, lashing the armature as securely as she can atop the top edge of the seatback. She doesn't bother to cut the twine from the spool, instead leaving the remainder set next to the little cloth mystery.

To whit.... she starts to unwrap the little bundle, to produce... a small piece of glass.

Was... Venom going to start working on some sort of artifice? No? Just what /was/ she doing? Aryia could not piece together anything at all out of this, were the puzzled expression on her face anything to go by.

<small>"... wh-t -r- y-..."</small> she whispers, perplexed, intrigued, and above all, insatiably curious. The rising tension making her take in every detail of V's jury rigged construction.


It would likely never survive at sea, whatever she's constructed, and if fate is kind it may survive long enough to be revised.

Venom's expression is intent, but her smile, faint as it is for the concentration, doesn't leave her lips.

Rising to her feet, she stoops over to very, very carefully, close the calipers of the armature on the edges of the glass so as not to damage it.

her head cocks, and she gains a slightly bemused s-curve to her lips, but, apparantly unstoppable, she turns a quick smile to Aryia before rerolling her kit to set on the seat before reaching for Throes of Pa Shun.

The book is stood, open atop the kit, with a little bit of scootching to one side, then the other for... the importance of alignment, probably.

Satisfied, she steps toward the end of the bed, setting her toe against the leg and reaches out to turn off the light.

"Okay, don't do anything yet!" she exhales excitedly, then, feels her way along the bed to settle in next to Aryia.

"Do you have to... see where you make your little light appear? I... need light, but I want to... surprise you...." Ven confesses meekly.


Aryia was burning with curiosity about something that would make her other act like this, her giving a light smile at seen how Venom constructed whatever this was. She didn't even want to dare move just in case she were to nudge something.

The elf brings her hands up, defensively just before the lights go out. Thankfully, the elf's eyes shine brightest in the pitch dark, and its easy to find some sort of reference for the human.

Unknowingly, her face grows a bit red, but she smiles warmly and wraps and arm around Venom as she settles in.

Thankfully, this meant she was right next to an ear so she could speak. <small>"I can. I just have to know where I'm putting it before hand. Remember, I can still see you, and the whole room,"</small> the winds softly chuckle near the end. 


Venom nods beside her, slipping her arm around behind Aryia and cuddles in, "I see." she says thoughtfully, looking into the shining eyes, a hand lifting to smooth her bangs with a warm smile.

Her attention turns back toward her contrivance and she whispers, "Target point about three inches past the center of the book, then close your eyes before you make it, please."

'Please' comes with a little squeeze.


The shining, milky eyes moonlight dark pools. Were they always so bright? The orbs squint in a smiling way, her nudging forward to peck a cheek before looking over to the book in question. She gives a nod, felt more than seen.

This was certainly a series of odd requests, but she was willing to entertain it, as it seemed Venom was practically vibrating in excitement.

She focuses on the point, even raising a hand out towards it to better capture where it needed to be before the lamplight eyes slide shut.

Aryia stills, tenses briefly, then softly exhales.

Manifesting from the dark being pushed away, was an orb of pale moonlight. The same color of the glow of the mute's eyes.

As promised, no other sources of light join, as Aryia keeps her eyes closed.


Having an idea what to expect helped, but, even still, the change in lighting hitches the breath in the human's chest.

finding her mouth going dry for some reason, she swallows audibly, tongue moistening her lips as she struggles with words, as she often does when things come to actual expression.

Her breath a warm whisper against the ear, "When we looked at the sky... it.... I never felt anythin so...."

She swallows again, "But... it... I hurt, too.... because I couldn't...."

Sniff?

Yes, a sniff, and her voice starts with a slightly troubled octave, "I couldn't share... the hope... the beauty of what I...." The feel of what is probably her head shaking, then her head gently leans against Aryia's, "Of what I wanted you to see with me..."

Along the far wall is painted a tableau of gossamer and bright pinpricks of light, a bare inkling of the brilliance veiled behind the curtain of night. A tapestry laid bare by a work of artifice, and a tapestry, and perhaps the first vision to truly stir Venom's heart just for the splendor of it.

Another sniff, then she turns and presses a soft, lingering kiss to the scarred cheek before whispering against it, "Open your eyes..." swallow, then, "My North Star." <sildanyari>


White brows knit as Venom has trouble drawing breath, strong arms wrapping around the human supportively. But the words, the tremble, the sniffling. It almost made her want to peek to check in on Ven, but she kept her promise, and just quietly nodded her head along.

The words made her heart clench. Stomach flip. A warmth suffuse through her chest. She nestles her head in, ear twitching and moving as the whispered words fell into it.

What was it, exactly, that this troubled soul wanted this wayward one to see-?

At Venom's behest, there is a pause. North Star?

Aryia slowly slides her eyes open.

There's an audible gasp.

Gaze transfixed upon the image cast upon the wall. the elf's lips part until her jaw rests open. For a solid handful of moments, she forgets to breathe.

<small>"V-V... t... this... t-this is so... so beautiful,"</small> whispered notes spill out from her as she pulls herself up to a kneeling position, leaning forward to take in as much of the shimmering blanket of the night sky. So much detail, so much depth that she had never seen before.

A hand loosely covers her mouth, eyes wide. Shimmering. Leaking without a rhyme or reason.

Such incandescent splendor. Radiant beauty. Awe-filled immaculence. Soul mending. Like a lost piece of one's self slotted in perfectly.

She kneels there, on the bed, completely fascinated and entranced, with a hand holding onto Venom's and her breath growing more ragged with each pass. Tears freely drip from her jaw and into her lap.

<small>"... woah...."</small> is all she could surmise.


Venom's eyes glitter in the reflection of simulated starweaves, brought to life through the innate gifts of her sweet one, her face every bit awash in the purest, most basic joy that she was able to share this... a sign of wonder.

There the shifting of the bed as Venom rocks up onto a knee to fallow her lead, hand giving a gentle squeeze before there is the gentle press of lips to the forerunner of the closer of Aryia's glittering trails.

She swallows and begins, "I see this.... I dream this... and.... and I think of you...."


The press of lips against skin breaks the enthrallment that the dense night sky has on others, Aryia slowly turning her head to face Venom.

The diffused colors off the wall bathed the both of them in celestial light. Her eyes widen a hint at the words. That warm feeling in her chest flared as she finally breathed a shuddering sigh.

<small>"Y... you..."</small> the wind whispers faintly. <small>"... t-this reminds you.. of... of me?" </small>

Trails rewet themselves as calloused hands pick up equally rough ones to hold. <small>"... d-do... do I mean that much to you..?"</small> the silenced one quietly asks, half her visage awash in the night sky as her glowing eyes tremble.


Venom, for her part, seems a little lost for words. There is a little faltering of her lips as she tries to frame an appropriate response, her smile becoming bashful before she gives a little, tiny nod.

She swallows, the unshadowed trail of a tear glittering in rainbow hues down her starwashed cheek, and she tries again, "...Beauty... always there..."

She moistens her lips with a tiny ghost of her tongue, and her free hand comes up to cradle her cheek, "... just... needed to look."

She knee-waddles a little closer, "There's a star... it's always in the same place in.... in the sky." she starts, "Sailors and traders and.... navigators use it as a landmark... do they can always find their way."

Her cheeks heat up, though how much is visible through shadow and starlight is up to Aryia's eyes. She swallows again.

"A North Star."


Aryia was emotionally staggered, lips parted as she quietly listens. She has to remember to breath, it seemingly wanting to keep getting caught in her throat over and over again.

The hand on the scarred face could feel its warmth of a growing flush from the heartfelt expressions the unveiled enigma presents. The shadow elf mirrors move movement, hand cupping a cheek for a thumb to brush away the trail. <small>"V..."</small> she whispers between all the quiet words.

The elf was a sailor herself, and she follows along easily with subtle nods felt through the hand on her cheek. Dark Sighted eyes catching the subtle rise of rubor in the human.

Another quiet question. <small>"... am I your... your guiding light then?"</small> the warbled wind asks.


Venom's cheek, too, is quite warm under the woman's touch.

She holds to the moonlight gaze of the elfin woman, eyes glistening wetly and, a little sheepishly asks in a little voice, "... Does.... does that sound.....?"


Aryia's lips twist into a sort of S-curve smile, twitching between soft upturn and an astonished parting. <small>"... silly? No... not... not at all... ussta isto tessai, m-my night blossom..."</small> she murmurs demurely, leaning forward to touch her forehead against V's. 

It was her turn to wet her lips, it drying out as her mind roiled at a burning question that's been festering for some time. Fingers thread into the other's hand and squeeze, the mute's pulse quick and speeding. "V..." she quietly, faintly starts, her voiceless voice shaking, unsure, feeling out the emotions that burned within her. <small>"... is... i-is this what love is?"</small>

The question asked like none ever had given her any to begin with for the long decades she's crawled through.


The human's lower lip draws a little behind the other as Aryia's expression shifts through it's gamut. Her eyes close a moment as their brows meet, and her mouth drops open at the appelation.

Night blossom?

A flower bloom.

At night?

Paradox...?

The Acanian's engine slips the track as the fingers interlace with hers, and, Aryia is speaking anew, and there is nothing else.

Until the end.

A question.

The young woman is uncertain... it would explain a lot...

Like her heart pounding in her chest.

There is a yearning in conflict; hope and desperation flailed at by inexperience chained to her vow of 'truth'.

Almost a ghost in the wind, her voice, as her head bows, and her hands squeeze, "I... don't.... I d-don't know...."


There is an uncomfortable silence following Venom's answer. Aryia doesn't move. Was it the wrong answer? Was she upset for not having her own night star guide the elfmaid to the right answer?

There's a tremble in the elf's frame. Oh no. She's crying now. Everything is-

Aryia is... smiling? Broadly? Staccato air spills from her nose in bursts, the grin meeting her glowing gaze.

<small>"I-I-I d-don't know either...!"</small> she breathes out, giggling, gently nuzzling her head against young woman's as her heart raced in her ears.


Venom's eyes are troubled by the silence, and the close in regretful confusion.

The tremors she feels from Aryia through their cojoined hands grows a choking knot in Venom's throat, and a tightness; a painful clenching in her chest.

She looks up hesitantly, mouth opening reflexively to apologize, to try and make things not-bad with her North Star, and she leans in to meet her brow to brow once more, "I.. I know... I'm... with you... there isn't... fear." she says softly.

A swallow, "I... f-feel... warm.... and.... fuzzy.... and I... I b-belong... Like.... where.... where you are... is.. I sh-should be.... where..."


There was a certain relief in the mutual confusion, a feeling of not being alone in their uncertainty. Both were aimlessly wandering in the bliss. The serenity. Aryia leans forward as well, her tilting her head slightly to give a light peck to the human's nose.

The taut words make the grin smooth out to a warm smile, still half her face illuminated by the starshow on the opposite wall. She closes her eyes, thumb brushing against the paranoid one's cheek. <small>"... I... I-I feel similarly. Warm... Fuzzy... a-and... like everything is g-going to be okay... when I see... see you. N-No matter what... guise you wear..."</small>

She squeezes the hand in hers. A thought crosses her mind, and Aryia scoots ever closer. <small>"... if... i-if you... feel like you should be here. W-With me... then... then stay. Here. With me... b-be with me. If... you want..."</small> the soft winds offer, the hand on the cheek gesturing out to the room. To the places where V's things were. To the wardrobe that could hold more. To the empty half of the bed.


V swallows again, and her lips pull into a hopeful, fond smile as she leans into the thumb stroking her cheek.

Even out of their depths, they're together.

In synch.

A unit.

Now, as close as they are, she stares down warmly into the moonlit eyes as Aryia shares her confusion... and her..."

Her invitation...

A flutter runs the length of the larger woman's frame to clasping bond, it sounds in her breath, for reasons she doesn't fully comprehend, and she swallows once more.

"I want... to be with you..." she confesses, following the look toward her equipment. To the articles of her personas. Her weapons.

"I don't w-want them... to.. to hurt you."

That warm, smiling visage of Aryia, her slightly nervous about the offer, firms slightly. The glow pulses brighter, like a lantern passing by a window. <small>"... V..."</small> she softly intones in her timbreless voice. <small>"... and I don't want... want them to hurt you either. But... if... if they get you and you're alone. Then I can't help you,"</small> she lays out, the warmth in her heart making her confidence grow twofold. If she couldn't keep her sister safe, she could at least- <small>"And if I'm alone, you can't help me. B-But if they get to both of us... and we're together..."</small>

Her expression turns firm, the prospect of a hundred new scars not shaking her in the slightest. <small>"... then they have to deal with... with an excellent team. And they won't know what hit them."
</small>

Venom's eyes are troubled, and there are the embers of fear in their depths.

As Aryia begins to speak, to assure her that she doesn't want the Acanian to be hurt, either, her mouth opens with intent to respond. To tell her that she isn't worth sacrificing so long a span to protect.

Truth.

Words do not fail the rogue weapon; they deny her. Refusing her call and leaving her floundering for some way to answer as Aryia's words continue to drive home a new concept

She has value.

Followed by simple truths, rationed logic meshing with her conditioned thinking, while the sentiment behind them drives to the fledgeling heart under it all.

For a thousand years, the night blossom's mind and heart chase their tails.

Two centuries to a heartbeat.

With an impulsive lunge, she moves to engulf the elf in her arms.

Who needs words...?


Aryia's face is firmed with a near dozen decades of hardship, knowing her value and her capabilities. And the past few months has shown her that she was capable of far more than she could ever dream of.

And then a broken blade wandered into her life.

And now that lost mul'neissa had purpose.

What did it mean? And why did it burn so hot?

The smaller woman is easily wrapped up as a soft, surprised noise escapes her. The pugilist a pillar no matter the situation.

The burning lanterns slide shut, the glowing milky orb losing it luster and starting to fade as the night sky becomes clouded.

Scarred arms wrap around the other. 

<small>"... my night blossom..."</small>

The lights fade, and all is consumed by umbra.

<small>"... bloom for me."</small>

 -End Scene-

[[Category:Logs]]