View source for You Don't Belong Here

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== Log Info ==
*Title: You Don't Belong here
*Emitter: Zeke
*Characters: Cryosanthia, Seldan, Zeke
*Place: Arcanists' Guild Dungeons, Temple of Daeus
*Time: Tuesday, March 31, 2020, 7:08 PM
*Summary: Cryosanthia waits in the Arcanists' Guild Dungeons, staring at the ceiling, feeling at home. She hears Zeke and Seldan approaching, and they tell her she can't stay locked up. She asks them if they're sure about that, and agrees to come with them, although she's quite emotional. During the walk back to the Temple of Daeus, most of her control and composure returns. Back at the temple, further questionning occurs, how much does she remember? She reveals she remembers it all, and can't explain any. She and Seldan apologize to each other, and he leaves so Zeke can get some sleep. The blue-scale sith-makar hasn't since Cryo returned from the Shard Tower.</div> 

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-=--=--=--=--=-<* Roleplay Nexus: Arcanists' Guild Dungeons *>--=--=--=--=--=-

Getting here requires passing a number of checkpoints, scans, and security checks. Once arrived, however, ones senses feel stifled and full, as though the mouth and ears were filled with cotton. This feeling will not leave until one exits.

The dungeons consist of a series of long halls, among which there are many rooms. Here, magic is blocked--thanks to heavy symbols engraved in wrought iron. These iron symbols lay resting into stone, itself carved. Nethercite, that terrifying legend of ages, lays placed into the walls. Guards may be found on regular patrols.

Here, the Guild takes no chances. Here, the most dangerous of mages await trial--or face imprisonment. And lately; willing plague victims. Along one particular hall, a door lies open. Outside it are a set of sith-makar guards. Past that and inside the room is a small table, with cards on it. A few dice. A set of chairs and some bare cots. Buckets labeled SOAPY WATER.
                   
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<pre>-=-=-=-  Appearing, in Order  =-=-=-=
Cryosanthia  6'9"     267 Lb     Sith-Makar        Female    A dashingly tall, elegant white-scaled lizard woman.
Seldan       5'11"    187 Lb     Human             Male      Red-blonde Eldanar man wearing Eluna's colors and symbol.
Zeke         6'8"     239 Lb     Sith-Makar        Male      A blue-scaled sith-makar in shadowy robes
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=</pre>

It's a cell. It was set up for a plague victim, so it's a little more comfortable than it should be, but that isn't saying much. There's a bed, a table, a chair, a light source and a set of bars as one of the walls, affording little privacy.

This doesn't seem to bother the sith-makar who is lying on the bed. The bed has been pushed into one of the corners and she is staring up at the ceiling. She breathes, her hands are clasped across her front, she isn't wearing anything. The breathing is very regular, as if she's counting for the inhales and exhales.

Down once more to the dungeons of her black despair. Seldan has once again divested himself of all magical items, as is required, but this time, the shirt he wears is missing one arm entirely, and the rest of it is in rather bad shape, far past what a simple mending spell will fix. He has already removed the rest of it, so his skin is once again that matte pitch black - and he hesitated before removing the headband, watching Zeke for his reaction as he watched Cryosanthia. After some deliberation, and consultation with both Zeke and the guards, he borrows a plain unbleached shirt for the trip down. 

He takes the trip down easy, letting Zeke move at his own pace, and lets Zeke lead, and for his part is silent.

There's an odd sound coming down the hall. Footsteps yes, but an odd 'tick' sound with them. An offbeat rhythm to the steps that is Zeke's cruch tucked close to his body. The sith-makar moves /very/ carefully. Each step a roll of movement born from long practice, but a practice that hasn't been necessary for long enough that the habit has to be remembered now. Each step is a reminder to Zeke of older times. A time without the presence of the limbs which made life so much easier for all he spent just as much time hiding them. It's a strange sort of grace he moves with, and they're forced to a near crawl by it. Eventually however, they reach the cell.

Zeke had said nothing about the odd discoloration of Seldan's skin, but it had been noticed. He guesses - correctly - as to it's nature and he's too polite to mention it at this time. As they come into view of the cell he winces at the sight of Cryosanthia locked away, her scent is... "Cryosssanthia." His voice is soft as he calls to her, but loud enough to be heard. He moves close to her cell's doors, closer perhaps than is wise, but he is drawn by the sight of her. "Thisss one hass come for you."

She hears him first, the distant sound of prisoners reacting to visitors passing by, then the footsepts with the tick. She smells him next, his scent his time to preceed him. It draws her from the bed, which her tail thumps in greeting. She sees him last, the both of them, as they come into view around the wall. She stands a half a pace inside, symetrical and erect with her tail still.

She is completely exposed, no clothing. Her scent is a stale mix of emotions, faded. Her pupils are a little dilated, possibly the dim light. She speaks, her voice is somewhat flat, "Is that wise? Is Menel ok?"

For the moment, Seldan hangs back from the cell bars, assuming a watch pose that does not take his eyes from Cryosanthia for one moment. "Yes, he rests and will be well," he puts in, quietly. And leaves it at that. There is something reserved - cautious - about his demeanor.

Zeke scents the air, opening his mouth slightly to better taste the scents in the air. Trying to discern how she is by the smell of her and this entire area. He has not the ultra-keen sense of smell that some sith can boast of, but it is sensitive enough. "They will not allow you to sstay here. You do not belong with thessse prissonersss." He glances toward Seldan, suddenly uncertain. "We will take you back to the Temple of the Dragonfather. We will try to ssee if we can not undo the influensce on your mind."

Cryosanthia remains standing there, reserved in motion, restrained as well. She watches Seldan watch her, then looks to her cihuaa, to Zeke. No reaction to his limbless state, the sight of the crutch. It's something she hasn't seen before, but there's no reaction, none at all.

The scents that linger were the strongest ones. Blood, human blood, a hint of Sith. Fear, Despair. Grief. It's faded now, but it clings to the area and to Cryosanthia. Grief is the strongest, and the white-scaled female has an emptiness about her. Right now, her personal cues are muted.

"I think perhaps I do, but we might as well try."

Cryo makes a painful smile and shrugs, her voice having a weak lilt it, "least I remembered something, right?" There's a small choking noise in her throats, and her pupils spread a little wider.

"No lasting harm is done, Cryosanthia," Seldan puts in, quietly, from his watchful pose at the back. It is not less watchful, but it is only watchful - there is no anger or accusation in it. "It is as Sunguard Zeke says. The guards do not deem you a criminal, and will not permit you to stay, nor should they do so. I asked it of Zeke, that he come to you here. You shall resume your clothing, and set your mind at ease. And ... we shall learn what it is that holds you in thrall."

It seems to pain Zeke to hear Cryosanthia condem herself, but he has few words that he can say to rebute her. Thankfully Seldan does. "Thisss one isss ssure you will remember more. Here." He moves gently, unlocking the door with a key granted by the guards upstairs and opening it for her. In spite of his easy words there's caution in him. Not really for himself, but for Seldan whom he stands before as if by cooincidence. He uses his body as a shield for the man who has already been attacked once by the female sith. "We will learn together."

A whiff of remorse, some of grief. She moves reluctantly forward, her eyes on her mate and seeing him bodily shield the paladin with himself. Her pupils pulse with her heartbeat and she keeps her hands clasped against her front. Her movements lack the power and confident stride she arrived here with. They're empty, like she drained away. She tries to speak, and her words halt before she manages, "Thank you Seldan."

Exhaling, she closes her eyes, following. "I'm ready, lead on."

Seldan closes his eyes briefly, her pain is so plain. And yet - it means that she has truly come back to herself. He stops that line of thought, though, startled to realize that Zeke is shielding him? "It is well, Sunguard," he tells Zeke, turning to follow them both. "If I am owed aught, it is but a new shirt." He tries on a very small smile, attempting to lace a little humor into his words.

Their choices put Zeke in the lead, and the sith moves slowly and carefully forward; leading them out of the dark beneath the arcanist's guild. Even from the front he pays close attention to those following him. Waiting for the other shoe to drop and for the worst to happen. He doesn't relax until they are finally, finally out of the dungeons. All of their equipment is returned to them though Cryosanthia recieves a few odd looks from the men guarding the entrance to the dungeons. With his limbs once more intact Zeke turns his gaze on Cryosanthia. "Tell thisss one... what do you remember from your attack on Ssseldan and hisss friend?"

Cryosanthia lets Zeke lead, she matches his pace, as slow as it needs to be. Her arms hang at her side, swaying with inertia. She gazes straight ahead, avoiding looking to either side. She avoids the gaze of the guards at the entrance, looking away from them. She puts her ring on first, almost snatching it out of the box in haste, her hand shakes as she puts it on her finger, squeezing the ring. Stay there. She restores her clothes as soon as her sleeves are on, they turn into the robe she was wearing before. Next are her gloves. At Zeke's question, her hands clench. The muscles in her neck tremble, and her pupils keep expanding. She nods, her lips tremble, she almost speaks then inhales deeply and closes her eyes, forcing a strong exhale. "My friend. Everything. Everything."

Seldan waits until they are fully outside to speak. It is he who takes the longest to resume his gear, including the illusion of alabaster skin that he deems necessary for the world outside. Once all is resumed, he returns the shirt to the guards with a word of thanks, and trails behind the others as they exist. "I would know what you remember of Menel as a boy," he remarks finally.

Zeke ducks his head at Cryosanthia's words. Watches those that pass by as he leads them carefully away from the Arcanist's guild. He's still not comfortable. "Thisss one needsss to know Cryossanthia..." He turns suddenly, grasping her not only with his crystal claw but with both hands. His eyes bore into hers and there's a tingle of some kind of magic between them. A spark. "Do you ssstill feel asss though you need to kill him?" His tone gives away his hope that she is free of the compulsion that she felt before.

<pre>GAME: Cryosanthia rolls will: (19)+4: 23</pre>

She is struggling with herself. It is clear by her body language even to humans, to sith, it screams. She stinks now, the short walk and the questions eroding whatever composure she managed to achieve. Despair, grief, being the dominant ones. Her eyes keep fluctuating, though overall her pupils grow rather than shrink and her eyes look like she's in a cavern when in the daylight. Deep breathing helps, but she's coming apart.

"Mine, he's mine, he's mine. I smelt him and I recognized him. I'm supposed to protect him, he's my nestling. But I knew, I knew when I saw him I had to kill him. I couldn't staaaaauuuu"

Cryosanthia starts to make the wailing grief call again, her eyes blacken and her scent goes strong. Zeke's touch on her shoulder seems to give her strength, and her noise cuts off. With some panting some control resumes, and her pupils turn back into slits, "I think, I think it's gone now."

When the keening starts again, Seldan's eyes widen, and his hand goes, without thinking, for his blade, and he immediately adopts a defensive stance. The sword, though, does not clear the sheath before she regains control, and slowly, very slowly, he relaxes. Mostly. Not completely. But, enough to let go of the sword. "Sunguard, I would speak where she has some protection against outside forces, and I would not risk it being here."

Without thinking Zeke lets out a low thrumming, a comfort-sound for the grieving mother. He releases Cryosanthia and nods to Seldan's words, picking up his pace. "Thisss isss not the plasce. You are right. Thiss one isss... ssorry." He has no words for the selfishness of his action just then, but his heart is racing, his tail flickering and he smells anxious now.

"I remember what I saw. Him in the cell, ca.. calling for me." Cryo says, her voice shaking. Zeke's comforting sounds seem to help, she listens, breathes his scent and nods. "It's fine. I can hold it together if we walk."

She starts moving faster, her posture becoming straighter and her strides more rhythmic. Her tail trails behind her, stride and arms swinging efficienty. It's not quite the secure and confident stride she was exhibiting before, but it's close and acting passionless seems to have pushed them down. She's leading, heading towards the Temple of Daeus. "We are going to the Sun Dragon now, right?"

Seldan only trails behind, the metal-and-leather sounds of the armor the only sounds he makes. He seems content to let the two of them talk this one out, and play only the guard role for the time being.

Only... Zeke is done talking as well. At least for the time being. He seems pensive as they make their way through the streets. It seems like her answer should have put him at ease but something about it seems to have agitated the blue-scaled sith. They make their way through the various streets toward the temple of Daeus, which Cryosanthia wisely guessed was their destination. Zeke relaxes only somewhat as they enter the temple, lifting his claw toward a few familiar faces that seem to want to talk to him but waves them off for now. Instead he takes the pair following him to the room which has become a familiar place for them of late.

-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=<* A10: Temple of Daeus *>=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-

The temple of the Sun Lord glitters golden beneath the same. Rather than walls, the majority of the temple is composed of what appears at first blush to be a raised round platform made of one of the largest slabs of marble likely in existence. Columns rise into the air as if to hold some massive ceiling, though instead of a normal ceiling, one finds the deep blue sky, studded by a disconcertingly close canopy of bright stars. One should not worry, however, as the rain never falls, and the wind never blows on this particular temple, but for a gentle breeze, whatever the weather outside may be.

Despite the austerity of the columns, warmth suffuses the grounds. A grand, marble statue of the Shining Knight stands a the center, a hand outstretched in benediction. Beside Him, the statue of Althea, their hands clasped in love. The central position of the temple to the others gives view to all of their children, and the two look upon one another with the solemnity of love that has been the center of so many tales and legends.

Masterfully designed mana lamps provide further soft, golden lightning where needed, their pedestals carved in the form of the Dragons of Light, over which Daeus is said to have dominion in His form of Draco Solis. Majesty, justice, and welcome suffuse the temple grounds. Around the central temple are a series of smaller buildings, each with a simple function and form. One houses the sacred book depicting some of the earliest known translations of the Laws of Light, which pilgrims from near and far come to visit. Another houses the well-appointed quarters of the Sunguards, and among all the ground bristle the Sunblades. 
              
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Cryosanthia seems to improve the further she is from the Artificer's Guild. Confidence resumes at some point, perhaps it is passing familiar structures, or the regular movements of her limbs. She keeps her eyes forward until she sweeps into the room she's been staying in. She crosses over to the bed, sits with her tail straight out behind her. She sniffs once, moves her hand through an elegant gesture and the markings on her gloves glow. She wipes the air, at herself, washing away her scents from crest to tailtip then looks expectantly at the two.

When Seldan enters, the last of the three, he turns and quietly closes the door to the room behind them. Instead of taking a stool, he adopts a guard pose in front of the door, something of a parade rest stance, and simply continues to listen in silence. He may not be angry, and there is no evidence of anger in his body language, but that same body language veritably screams that he does not trust her. He is wary and waiting.

Zeke paces to the tea pot, testing it and finding it long gone cold. Rather than address the growing tension in the room he sets the pot to boil a new brew and then pads over to a stool to take an uncomfortable seat there. His tail flick-flicks behind him, betraying his agitation. These small things of normalcy have done nothing to aswage his concerns. "Ssseldan asssked. What do you know of thisss Menel? What do you remember?" He doesn't look at her for a long moment, and when he does it's with tired, sad eyes.

"I'm sorry for injuring you Seldan." Cryosanthia says, looking directly at the man. She seems sedate and composed, and also waiting. She watches Zeke as he crosses the room, goes to the pot, then crosses and takes an uncomfortable seat.

"I thought I answered that. I saw him as a child in a cell and he reacted fondly to me. Everything else, what he told me, which Seldan saw, that he knows me. That he's dangerous in some way I can't remember."

"No apology is needed," Seldan answers gently, from where he stands by the door. He does not, however, make any attempt to come closer. "Dangerous, you say, and you cannot remember why. "Do you recall that I threatened to write the Crimson Pen, with the tale of an innocent man killed in cold blood by his demon-possessed lover?" He watches Cryosanthia closely for her reaction, although his skin flushes just a little at this.

"Sssa." Zeke breathes the sound and his eyeridges lower over his eyes in thoughtfulness. He seems very tired, and it's a fact that he is. He's gone as Cryosanthia knows, several days without rest now. He hasn't slept since the day she was taken in fact. "You remember him dangeroussss, but not why. Perhapsss he isss dangerousss to thisss Misstresss?"

They are thoughtful, quiet words, Zeke's head lifting at Seldan's words. Curiosity flickers over the tiredness on his features and he mouths the other man's words as if saying them to himself will make them make sense. "Why would you sssay thisss?"

"Yes?" Cryosanthia answers neutrally, with the proper inflextion on the question. She continues to gaze at Seldan, immobile, her tail straight out behind her, hands neatly in her lap. She seems to be expecting something else. As the silence grows, her head rotates slightly, then her posture suddenly changes.

She drops her head forward, leaning towards Seldan across the room. "Wait? I'm the demon-possessed lover? We were lovers?" She sounds genuinely surprised as she says it.

Following that, she looks at Zeke and nods. "You look terrible Zeke, you'll waste like Mikilos if you aren't careful, you should rest. I..."

"Yes. Dangerous. That I would have to do what is necessary. Perhaps, to me. It was... a deep conviction."

Quickly, Seldan shakes his head. "No, no. Not at all. It was ... intended to perhaps jolt you out, but did not work. I would do nothing of the kind, think nothing more on it." He subsides into silence, allowing them to talk while he listens.

"Perhapsss we all need ressst." Zeke looks toward Seldan and lets out a long sigh. "Thisss hass been a trying ordeal for usss all thisss one thinksss." Zeke rises to his feet with care. 

"Thisss one will have sssomeone guard thisss door, and will find sssome resst." The blue-scaled one moves toward the door as he speaks, motioning for Seldan to take his leave. "There isss tea brewing for you Cryosssanthia. It will help you to sssleep."

"I remember you punching me in the nose too." Cryo smiles somewhat at Seldan, shaking her head from side to side.

"Are... you sleeping outside Zeke?" She asks, with a lot of hesitation in her voice. Her tail curls around to her lap and she watches him.

"I would ask your forgiveness in turn, for that, but perhaps sleep will serve you better than words." Seldan immediately nods and turns towards the door at Zeke's gesture. "If you have need of me, find me at Her Temple until evensong has passed." Clearly, the paladin has a different form of rest in mind. "Peace upon your nest. And ... Sunguard, thank you." With that, he turns and takes himself out the door without further delay.

Zeke watches Seldan go with a nod before returning his attention to Cryosanthia. "Thisss one mussst find a guard for your door, and give thisss onesss dutiess to another. By the time thisss one returnsss you will hopefully be assleep." He gives her a gentle look. "Find ressst and peasssce Cryosanthia. You desserve both."

"It's okay Seldan," Cryo says, shaking her head slightly, "Faran stuck me someplace much worse, it happens."

She nods, looking at Zeke, and takes the tea, drinking it down. "Ok."

She lies down on the bed, stares at the ceiling, and waits.

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[[Category:Logs|You Don't Belong Here]]