Threads of Freedom

Log Info

• Title: Threads of Freedom

• Emitter: Ravenstongue

• Characters: Aryia, Irshya, Ravenstongue

• Place: A03 - The TarRaCe Bathhouse

• Summary: It's a nice day, so Ravenstongue decides to go take a dip at the TarRaCe bathhouse. She is joined there by Aryia, who notices the new mark on Ravenstongue's chest. Aryia asks more and more questions about it, growing more suspicious until Ravenstongue admits the truth: she made a blood pact with her Grandfather. Irshya witnesses the blowup between friends and consoles Ravenstongue after Aryia storms out.

-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--<* A03: The TarRaCe - Bathhouse *>--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-

A light, warm mist welcomes those entering the grand bathing chamber. Rising from pools warmed by unseen sources of heat, the moisture makes the air somewhat muggy but still comfortable to breathe. The room it fills has been divided into three portions - the dividing walls, like the bathing pools themselves, clad in pale marble that contrasts with the dark granite that bears the weight of it all.

Attendants politely direct people to changing areas and appropriate services, and ensure that no one winds up where they should not. The central pool is open to both sexes, with a strict requirement for bathing attire to be worn. Those located to either side are mirrors of each other, each restricted to one sex and discreetly guarded to preserve patrons' privacy.

Beyond the central pool a pair of massage tables offer another form of politely-supervised relaxation, with cabinets holding an impressive array of aromatic oils for the use of trained members of staff. More prosaically, signs announce the availability of a service to clean clothes while patrons wash themselves, so that they can return to the outer world fresh from head to toe.

-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=- Dramatis Personae =--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-   
Aryia                4'8"     110 Lb     Shadow Elf        Female    A heavily scarred mul with a resolved look about her.
Ravenstongue         5'0"     99 Lb      Half-Elf          Female    Short half-elf girl with violet eyes and black hair.    
Irshya               3'0"     35 Lb      Goblin            Female    A small, blue-skinned Goblin in sea-green robes. 
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-

Winter is finally giving way to spring. This Gilday is a kind day, the just-after-noon sun warm and the light breeze reminding all who walk on this day that spring exists...

And it's a good day to take advantage of the TarRaCe bathhouse. Ravenstongue is in the women's only baths, sinking into the water as she leans back and lets herself sink down into the waters. Her eyes are closed, and the surface of the water laps gently at her upper chest, leaving the top inch of her feather mark and the new lines around it exposed.

It's just a nice, relaxing day on the first real day of spring...

Such a relaxing day indeed. So relaxing that one tends to forget what grounds certain folks linger and prowl.

When did they get there? Was she always there? Her presence was announced by a pile of cloth dropping into a chair, a white robe doffed adjacent to the women's pool. Lacking her most of her usual bathhouse wear, a scarred and muscled mul'neissa woman glides in the waters wordlessly, save for a soft hiss of the heat sapping away the latent soreness.

She gives a light two-note whistle towards Ravenstongue, raising a hand across the way.

Ravenstongue's violet eyes flutter open with the whistle, and she spots Aryia across the way. A smile spreads on her face and she waves at Aryia, rising up a little in the water as she stands up. "Hey Aryia!" she calls out.

More of the feather mark is shown for this, of course. That linework is definitely new, but it doesn't look angry and red like most fresh tattoowork tends to be.

Aryia lightly smiles, her attention flicking downwards briefly. She tilts her head slightly.

This was perhaps the first time the half-sil had seen the mute like this, and her heavy scarring didn't cease on her limbs and face, as it extended every which way. Even something unseen, large crosshatch scars on her back, could be spied. But she seems relaxed enough to be uncaring about the situation.

Or, perhaps, she's moved past that.

"You get it repainted or touched up?" she inquires idly, poking at her own chest. <Handspeech>

It's hard not to notice all the scars on Aryia, but Ravenstongue doesn't stare at them, similar to how she didn't stare at Aryia's scars or make the stupid decision of asking them the day that they first met many moons ago. Even though Aryia would likely be willing to talk about them--some things are not appropriate to be asked.

Not without enough liquid courage--or stupidity, depending on you ask--in the system, that is.

She's not given enough time to stare anyway as the question is put up. Ravenstongue smiles in that polite manner. "Kind of touched up, yeah," she says. "Just came back from the Mythwood with Telamon this morning. It was such a nice day that I had to come for a dip in the baths."

All those moons ago would have resulted in a broken nose.

The mute nods idly, her gliding through the pool to draw closer. Glowing gaze inspecting the additions to it. "Whoever painted it did better this time," she comments. "It looks almost tattooed."

She bobs her head. "I got done training earlier, so I come here to relax before I figure out what I'm doing for the evening." <Handspeech>

"Grandfather added onto it," Ravenstongue replies with a smile. "I asked him to. I love what Ashlee did originally, but now I think it's even better. It's even more special to me."

Her words are casually delivered, and she effortlessly switches to the topic of training. "What were you training on? I can't imagine there's not much more that challenges you these days. Pothy even calls you the Invincible Muscle Lady now that he's gotten over his fear of you. Mostly."

Speaking of which, Pothy appears to be blissfully absent. Finally. No snacks.

Even if the words were carefully delivered, there was still enough for Aryia's brows to pinch together. "Did he?" she gestures rhetorically. "How could it be any more special than it already was?"

"I punch boulders to toughen my limbs," she answers easily before snorting at the name. "He should keep his fear. He's only two fuck ups away from being turned into grout."

She looks around. "Where is that fucker anyways?" <Handspeech>

Ravenstongue smiles. "Well, it's special because Grandfather did it," she says. "The mark was originally a curuchuil, a symbol passed down through my family. I asked Grandfather to add onto it because he was originally supposed to do it--and he didn't get to. So I asked him to add onto it."

It's true enough. But then the talk turns to smashing boulders and Ravenstongue blinks a little. Boulders. Boulders. Yet there's zero disbelief. She's seen what Aryia's capable of, after all.

"Pothy's at home, probably gorging on walnuts," Ravenstongue adds. "Or bonding with Telamon. They've been getting along pretty well recently." There's a little pleased smirk on her face at that note.

Aryia chuffs, her turning to rest her back against the edge of the pool. Water sloshes lightly as she continues to twist and weave her hands to talk. "That's good. More patient than me. Should find some kind of magic thing that makes food so he'll be set for life."

She's quiet for a beat, hands still. Then, she points something out.

It's times like these that people forget that, yes, Aryia is quite old. Yes, she's decently intelligent. And yes, she's deceptively wise.

"So you went all the way to the Mythwood just to get a symbol touched up?" she gestures, stringing together the story and finding it... lackluster. <Handspeech>

"Had to," Ravenstongue replies, still smiling. "If I want the actual Grandfather and not just one of his messenger birds he uses to spend time with me, I have to go to the Mythwood. Easiest place for him to cross over from Quelynos so long as I'm the one who calls him. And while he can shapeshift the messenger birds, neither of us thought it'd be a good vehicle for adding onto it."

Shehe smirks a little. "Plus, Telamon's family lives up there, and we're thinking of having the wedding up there, so it wasn't like I went just for that. I met his Uncle Telgari. He's... Umm, he's strange. I know that's rich coming from me, but apparently Tel's dad had to ask him to take a bath before meeting me."

Aryia raises a white furred brow high. "Had to?"

Mute mul staring. Extended silence.

"It's just a painting. Why do you have to go all the way to Quelynos, out of the way, for a painting?"

Glowing gaze blinks. "Understandable, sometimes you don't have the energy to take a bath. Or the availability." <Handspeech>

"Well, sort of," Ravenstongue replies, a little bashful. "I'm not exactly powerful enough to just pull one of the fey nobility out of Quelynos wherever I like. Going to the Mythwood makes it easier, though, because it's one of the places on this plane that overlaps at times with Quelynos. There are stories of people who have no idea where they're going in the Mythwood ending in Quelynos and having to be escorted home by one of the nicer fey. The mark is important to me--my father might be an asshole, but I do genuinely love my Grandfather. He's the only family I've got left that loves me, and..."

She looks a little wry. "I also wanted something that screamed, 'I'm more of a Lúpecyll than you are, asshole', if I ever run into my father again."

Ahhh, child rebellion. The age-old reason for getting a tattoo.

"And no, I get that--I've been so sad I forgot to take a bath before. Telgari just lives out in the woods with nature and forgets that bathing is a thing." She wrinkles her nose in distaste. "Also, apparently he asked if I had any sisters. I'm pretty sure he's way older than me, so if I had any sisters, that'd just be creepy. "

Aryia is listening intently to Ravenstongue's words. Those lamplight eyes affixed firmly on her. The mute's ears slowly press against the sides of her head, narrowing her profile.

She's given an answer.

The pugilist shifts in the water to fully face Ravenstongue. A calloused hand bounces against the palm of her vertical palm, and it veers off before a single digit points to the half-sil.

"You're deflecting." <Handspeech>

Ravenstongue purses her lips together for a moment after Aryia's statement is signed. She sighs and folds her arms.

"Okay. It's also a magic mark now. It lets me cast funny fae lights and I could probably convince a fey noblelady to let me borrow her shoes now. I didn't want to say it because, well, I know people are still uneasy after everything that's happened lately with... You know." Doesn't need to be said out loud. Ravenstongue does look apologetic for what it's worth.

"Sorry, I would have just spat it out to begin with but... I dunno. You are scary, like you said, Aryia, even though you're my friend." She smiles.

GAME: Aryia rolls sense motive: (14)+22: 36

Aryia stares.

And stares.

And stares.

A hand raises, and her eyes glimmer faintly as four floating orbs of milky light manifest and hover lazily around her hand. "Funny fae lights," she repeats. "You went all the way to Quelynos. For funny fae lights and some brownie points for fae people. That's some petty level of elf shit that they do when they're bored and have time to kill."

"That sounds... so... pedestrian considering your capabilities."

A slow blink. "I am scary. And we we're friends."

Eyes squint to thin lines. "So what are you scared about." A statement. <Handspeech>

Ravenstongue looks back down to her mark for a moment. Another sigh as she looks more vulnerable.

"I'm scared of your judgment, or that I might lose you as a friend," she finally says, quietly.

She looks down to the water for another beat before looking back up to Aryia. "I asked Grandfather for a pact. And I know what you're thinking--no, I didn't promise my soul. We agreed that it was probably the best idea for my protection going forward, and I wanted to be more like my ancestors. Most importantly, I just wanted to feel like I belonged somewhere again--to a family. My mom's dead and my father isn't a father."

The breath remaining in her just expels out of her like a deflating balloon in a heavy sigh. "And honestly, I'm glad I did it, because I feel like I belong somewhere now and no one could ever take that away from me."

Aryia's brows shoot up to her hairline. Ears pressed flat against her head.

Her lips part for a moment as she mouths something reflexive, but whatever it was dies just as it starts, whatever addendum brought forth killing it.

She's incredibly unreadable, aside from the slight shift of her gaze to stare at the mark in thought.

And it's an absolutely excruciating long, pregnant pause for her to gesture something. Say something.

A breath In. Out.

"So let me get this straight."

Her gaze slides up to violet. "Despite being surrounded by friends, a beginning to be newfound family with your partner, and your budding expertise in magic, you felt like you didn't belong."

An eye twitches. "So you part some of your threads of freedom to... Grandfather. Who you could visit whenever you want. You said it yourself, you could go to the Mythwood to speak with him better."

The pugilist frowns deeply. Seeming like she has something to remark, but bites it back as she crosses her arms over her chest. <Handspeech>

"Telamon could leave," Ravenstongue says, looking back down to the water. There's tears already falling down her face as she even says the idea out loud. "People leave each other, or disappear, or die all the time for reasons that can't be helped. All of the friends I have right now could just leave. I have never belonged anywhere. I have never had any friends before coming here. And I'll be honest, Aryia--a lot of times I woke up and wondered if today would be the day that it just all disappears. That I'm back in Rune with an empty house and I'm alone again--or worse, that my house here will be empty, and all the people I thought were my friends are just strangers again because I'm a freak who shouldn't have been born in the first place."

She sniffles a little as she puts her hands up to her eyes to wipe her tears away. "Except for Grandfather. Grandfather's loved me from the moment he saw me. He named me. And most importantly, he's all I have left. My mother's gone and she is never going to come back--there's not a single spell in the world that will ever return her, because she died to give me her powers. All because my father was an asshole who cared only about himself. So, yeah, of course I'm going to get closer to Grandfather in any way I can--because it makes me feel like I have a reason to live that won't just disappear on me one day."

The wee pool shark quietly pads into the pool area, a bucket in one hand, and a stiff-bristled broom over the other shoulder. She eyes the two ladies in the pool, looking back and forth between the two.

The bucket is carefully, and quietly, lowered to the floor.

"It's a powerful feeling, isn't it? Belonging. Something Irshya felt heavily when she came here. Fish out of water, you know? Irshya gets it."

She brings the broom around, and dunks it into the bucket.

"But Irshya thinks that the fact that people could one day leave makes everything worthwhile. Life is only worth something because it is temporary. Nothing lasts forever. Not even gods, or this world. Irshya won't judge you for a pact. But simply points out... even Grandfather will not be there one day. A day you might need him most of all. What then?"

The pool shark brings up the broom and begins to scrub the tiles around the pool room.

Aryia's face doesn't twitch to show any sort of regret, or sympathy as she listens with her arms crossed. A long ear twitches as she hears a familiar wet padding, but even Irshya's words doesn't pull her attention off the softly crying half-sil.

"You're being a fucking naive moron," she gestures bluntly before jabbing a thumb over her shoulder towards the pool shark.

"She's right. Everything is temporary. You don't think I know how that feels? The amount of people that have come and gone during my time is long and non-exhaustive. It's pieces of others that makes you who you are and makes you valid. To be blind to all that and lean on an infinite so heavily is going to set you up in the coming decades on an incredibly unstable foundation."

She stands briskly, sloshing water. "If you're so afraid of losing people, then why the fuck don't you talk to them about this shit until you do something extreme like this."

She pulls herself out of the waters, grabbing her things with hands that were flicking a tinge of silverly light, faint lines of moonlight appearing on her face and down her arms.

"I'm not pissed about your fucking idiotic decision."

She throws her robe on, and strides to the door.

"I'm pissed that you trusted none of your friends to talk about it."

The door is thrown open with a slam that shakes the wall, and she stomps out. <Handspeech>

And, well, Ravenstongue is alone with herself, her thoughts, her tears, and Irshya just doing her job. Unfortunately for her, her hands are wet from the bathwater, so there's little to no salve to be had for tears by rubbing them away. Her hands eventually just plummet back into the water.

Useless.

"Great. I was always supposed to be alone, wasn't I," Ravenstongue says quietly to herself.

She seems to trying to be thinking of anything else to say, perhaps to address Irshya's words. But, well, she's upset. Nothing is comfort. Everything is awful.

Eventually the half-elf just crawls up out of the pool and pulls on her bathrobe. She shivers a little--who knows if it's from the sudden temperature adjustment or what's just happened.

The Gobbo pauses in her brushing, and leans on her broom handle.

"Remind Irshya to have a talk with Aryia about how to tell the truth. The truth does not have to be used as a bludgeon in order to get the point across. But Aryia seems to take the angry approach most often."

The wee sharky-one approaches Ravenstongue and attempts a hugging.

"You are not alone. You have Irshya here. She is willing to listen, or to simply offer leaning support, yes? Aryia is simply upset, but it, like all things, is only temporary."

Tear-filled violet eyes look down at Irshya, allowing her to hug. It's a bit of a leg hug more than anything, but it's still comfort.

"Do you think we'll still be friends?" she asks. It's more of a whimper than a question, really, accented with little sobs. "I just--I'm only doing what felt right to me. Until now I was so happy about the pact and..."

She shakes her head, sniffling.

Irshya offers comforting noises as she hugs. "The nature of friendship means there will be times when you will disagree. Or fight. But if the friendship is true, and you are true to each other, it will survive."

"But you do understand why she is upset, yes?"

"I do understand, it's just--I did this for me," Ravenstongue explains, still sniffling. "Yes, there could be a day that my Grandfather dies--I'm pretty sure fey nobility can still be killed--but I needed acceptance from someone who I knew would never abandon me. And I need protection. Times are scary right now--and we did it safely. I didn't promise my soul to him. It was just... an empowerment of the bloodline bond we have."

She wipes a hand off on the robe. Finally, a dry hand to brush her tears away. It's a tiny bit of consolation in addition to the pool shark's hugs.

"Irshya understands.", the pool shark says, softly. "But you kept it to yourself. Aryia believes such a thing to be dangerous. She could be wrong. Or, you could be. Irshya not know. All Irshya can see is hurt feelings."

The Gobbo squeezes gently at Ravens' waistline. "Such a tear in friendship can be mended. Let Aryia cool down a little, and then talk with her."

Ravenstongue nods, finally beginning to calm down a little as she's at least able to dry her own tears successfully now, and Irshya's getting through to her. "I should have... talked about it with her, yeah," she says, admitting it. "I should have talked about it with Tel beforehand, too. I just was so scared..."

She smiles a little at Irshya. Just a little smile. "I should probably go home and cry into Pothy's feathers. Thank you for helping me. And... well, sorry you have to deal with it."

The wee woman doesn't move, her arms still mostly around Ravenstongue's waist. "You do not need to apologize to Irshya, you have not wronged her. Irshya is happy to offer a sympathetic ear, and shoulders to cry on, and a hug. Irshya recommends that you soak for longer, but if one must leave, tell the woman at the bar that the blue bitey lady said you could have some soup to take home. Some comfort food, yes?"

The pool shark squeezes once more, before releasing the violet-eyed girl. "Be well!"

Ravenstongue smiles a little wider for it all. "Thank you, Irshya. I really hope you have a good rest of the day," she says. "I might take up that offer for Pothy's sake..."

The half-elf girl leaves, presumably off to claim that free soup for Pothy and to lick her wounds.

Reconciliation could happen--later. When they are both ready for it.