Dated References

Log Info

• Title: Dated References
• Emitter: Cryosanthia
• Characters: Cryosanthia, Faranmidahn
• Place: A10: Temple of Daeus
• Time: Tuesday, April 14, 2020, 11:58 AM
• Summary: Cryosanthia is reviewing records at the Temple of Daeus, having worn out most of her assistants and even Faran is sleeping while she goes through them. The records give her things to think about, and some emotional difficulties. Faran awakens and they discuss Cryo's concerns. The sith has a breakdown, over concerns fantastical and more mundane. She's unlikely to be a construct, but the possibility she utterly failed in her mission gamble is a possibility. Faran comforts her, and a letter arrives from Mikilos which summarizes what Queen Niceven told him. Cryo feels it's barely worth what the elf gave up for it, and that perhaps the quest to get a True Death Weapon is futile. The only hopeful news is the Queen of Air and Darkness accepts pain and might be interested in Cryo's suffering, and there are apples which will help restore her memory. Neither options are Nice or Easy. The pair give up for the day and go out to get sandy candy.

-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=<* 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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-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-  Appearing, in Order  -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Cryosanthia  6'9"     267 Lb     Sith-Makar        Female    A dashingly tall, elegant white-scaled lizard woman.
Faranmidahn  3'3"     35 Lb      Halfling          Female    Albino Lucht woman in black leather armor with a BIG spider
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The Records room. A pot of tea on the sideboard, cold. A few teacups and saucers around, empty. A towel, because it's important to know where they are and have them in case of spills. Several open inkwells, ready to spill.

Scrolls, papers, books, maps, quills and quill sharpeners.

One very tall, elegant lizard woman who has been crushing the research and crushing a bench. One small halfing knight, the moral support.

Cryosanthia has been at it a while, "Well, I can always have more dots, but it's time to hit it like I mean it with these books. I think I've sorted them out chronologically enough, I want to make sure everything is properly dated."

Perhaps less crushed, though that depends on physicality vs faith in humanity, Faran has managed to help out a little bit, though some of the chairs were a little bit of a chore at her size. Helm in her lap, the little sorceress, despite her best efforts, is leaned into the sith's side, shrouded in her hair. A muttered response that had a fifty-fifty chance of being topical now and then had gone silent some time ago. But she's so soft and warm....

Cryosanthia leans over, nosing the fluffy mop of hair, and keeping an arm wrapped around her, snugging her against her hip, "This one will ready, you can listen to my voice. It's all long past and I'll make some notes. I will start with these Salina specials." At first it seems she's about to read the report aloud, but the title makes the sith hesitate. She reads further and further in. She quietly closes the book and sets it down, she speaks slowly and sadly, "I see we lost the notes on this one. You read it before, the one where Erakirak the Egalrin informs the orc father his son is dead and that he was mind controlled by Zahier. Well..."

"... a least Erakirak was brave enough to say it to his face, and the father saw his son's remains."

Cryosanthia closes the short pamphlet, places it as far out of reach as she can. She finds herself holding onto Faran and staring at the wall for a while.

She picks up the next one. "Salina and the Slime, also short. Let's see." Cryo begins to read. She makes a few scratches on her pad with her quill, random marks, and she's drawing her dragon-eye again. "This is definitely She, and She meets with someone named Morgan. Morgan's impression of her is impressive, but She's far from how she seemed at the Fernwood. A less experienced version of her, perhaps. Still collecting oozes as part of her research. Sorceress, yes, of course. Oh! And Morgan has a small dragon! I'm sure that's irrelevant. Oh this part is interesting, not only are the slimes drawn to magic, they'll make something magical if they're in contact with it long enough. That makes sense, that explains Seldan's skin, perhaps my flashy scales. The infected get a little more magical in strange ways. I wonder if that means the cisterns have become enchanted. Imagine planewalking in their vicinity accidentally connecting them to the plane of water and Alexandria experiencing an endless flood as it tries to drain out through. Anyhow, She was visibly glowing when she took the bottled slime. Maybe she's been soaking in it. 'Depends on the subject, the size of the magical element, various other factors.' She and the bottle glowed. That seems relevant."

Faranmidahn cuddles in a little as she's nuzzld, murmuring something like, "shyeah'ess'n tuffsp't hmmmmm..." It could be sleep addled tradespeak. It could be her native language.

"Next is, Home for Monsters, part 6. The other parts are..." Cryosanthia quickly flips through them, "... battle summaries. I don't see anything new. In this one... hmm... pleasant enough seeming minotaur named Edward, everyone gets big and fluffy at him, attacks. He attacks back. Some food humour. Oh! Hetzakoatl! I've heard of her! Another white-scale, we shall have to meet. Interesting enchanted cupboard, brings out food you can sustain yourself on. That got left behind it seems..."

She reads further, "Oh! Ooooh. The party barges through a door to a man sitting in an office. He's surprised to see them, that they managed to come through the door. He explains he's enchanted it, to go anywhere. Think of where you want to go, it takes you there. They were thinking of the owner of the dungeon..."

The white-scaled sith jumps to her feet! "It was Zaheir. It was a thousand years ago! He said he was Zahier and they saw Alexandria as a village. He told them the door only goes through space, not time, but they went back through time when they wanted to meet the owner of the dungeon! Something to do with the magic circle on the floor again. They think of going to a House of Escorts in their present day and arrive."

"That must be, that must be how I got back. Thinking of the Fernwood just after I left. Why was I so beat up? What happened. WHAT HAPPENED!"

Cryosanthia is staring at the report as if it will tell her. Reading about another white-scale sith, out of time, she felt she was a part of it. The report shakes in her hand, she sits. Carefully tipping Faranmidahn back upright, resting her against her side. She makes notes on this one. "Must meet Hetzakoatl."

"Wh'appen...?" Nnnnn..! Faran hand reaches out to lightly brush against scales, and she lightly strokes the sith's protective hide, "Ssss'ok, Cryo... 'r jus'aving a nightm're... 'm heree....sshhzzzzzz...." and she tucks in once more.

Cryosanthia settles back down, stroking the back of her sleeping friend. Exhaling. "It's all right, it's in the past. That's why we write things down, so we can forget them and find them later."

She sighs again, a stack of tomes for her missing years are unlikely to ever surface. In the meantime, she'll make do with terse memoriores of other people.

Faranmidahn makes a soft noise, "....a'wayz luvd..." and adjust her position slightly before going still once more.

Cryosanthia works away dilligently, organizing the timeline, finally deciding that it's more important that all the related reports of an incident are grouped together rather than when they happened to be filed at the time. "Did they split up writing it among everyone present and they all handed in a chunk? Why is Part 5 of Fire and Brimstone registered with such a later date than Part none."

Cryosanthia keeps reading, making some notes on a page that relate to the reports, sorting the books into slightly different stacks. She sets her quill down, wiggles sideways so Faran tips gently over onto the bench again. She stands, and stretches. Too much sitting and she will develop more bookwrym traits. She drops and does a swift series of push-ups, then finds a clear spot where she can run at a wall. She leaps, kicks off it and backflips, landing in a low crouch. She repeats the motion, using her opposite foot to kick off. She does a handstand where she flips over and plants her feet against the wall.

Her robe, obligingly, falls down on her chest and arms. "Mmffff. Stop showing yourself off Cryo, kip up."

She rolls out of it and back to her feet, then spends some time bouncing from side to side. After a bit of calisthenics the palescale sith returns to her work. She makes a quick review of some of her notes from earlier. "Elly would be interested in this, the Treant with the poisonned pool from Forest on Foot. I'll have to tell her to go visit him. It. Her. Hmm. Are trees male or female or does it down to their flowers and they're both. Well, that's a distraction. I hope it moved and didn't keep drinking that pool."

The lucht continues to doze, though she shifts a little at the sounds of more vigorous activity. She murmurs something solemn, probably in halfling.

"Finding Edgar. Oh this is a long one." Cryosanthia says, settling down with it. "They talk about swaithe demeons, small mind reding, invisible, but they don't actually show up. Heh... heh, of course they don't. Okay, following a boy who keeps heading north because of a vampire. They encounter a giant bird construct, made by Zahier, then modified by someone else, likely Her, because it has ice powers. They defeat it, are attacked by owlbears. They travel really far, through the Vast, to a black forest. They find the Tower..."

The palescale sticks a quill in the book, gets up and gets herself some cold tea. She drinks it, and while it seems like steam is coming off the cup, it's really her cold breath condensing some moisture in the air as she sips and looks at the sleeping lucht. "I wonder if I helped modify any of those constructs. I wonder if I was modified. Oh Mistress what is your plan, why is Alexandria your target? What did Alexandria do to you? If you attacked Charnath, we would all be on your side. Instead your inscruitable intentions invite insipid incremental interventions."

"nnnmmmm... think thas called obliteration..." Faran mutters, rubbing at an eye with her knuckle. She looks around a little bit, a little vacant at first, the seems to waken, "Oh! Cryo! I'm so sorry, how long was I-! I mean... when did-?" "Another century has past," Cryo smiles at Faran, her blue eyes glittering, "She remains undefeated and we are still buried in books."

She takes another sip of cold tea.

Faranmidahn looks guilt as she sits up and gives a sigh bigger than she is, "I... I want to think that somewhere inside anyone that isn't some manifestation of a concept, there's some nugget of hope, something that could be nurtured into redeeming anyone." She slips down from the bench, glancing back at it as if to wonder how she got up there in the first place, then, "I'm.... having a really hard time believing so for her. Not after.... not after what you relayed about the room where she talks to herself."

"She is Fae, and as we have seen they have little regard for others and view them as fascinating transitory amusements. My feelings, when I think of her, are that she was indifferent." Cryosanthia says, moving to sit on the bench, her tail curling around to rest against her thigh and hang down, where she crosses it over her crossed ankles.

"Kol calls me her Beloved Pet. Is that her name for me, or his? Is she capable of attachment. Clearly I am beautiful and improved." Cryosanthia spreads her arms, sitting tall, "How much was that my aging and how much was it her doing? She certainly never saw me as an equal, she might have come to see me as more than a thing to take apart. I would have tried to be warm with her, did I succeed, did we have a relationship? Not enough to sway her to stop, Kol still attacks, the slime still is. I think, she is like a spider on the wall, a presence but not one relatable. Then I think of your Torrent and see my insult, to Torrent, who cares more than She."

There is a little sorrow in Faran's face as Cryo speaks, but, "There could be something more to her, Cryo... when you think no one's listening, you still call her Mistress. Like it's her name, like in some... books that I've... looked at." A blush, then, "She hurt you in ways I'm not sure we'll ever fully understand, but maybe what's been hidden in your stolen memory could be a look at her heart... and she considered that a vulnerability. A secret for her alone, once you left her."

Cryosanthia removes her left glove, exposing Her snowflake, formed in her scales. She rubs at it, the marking on her the hand she favours for casting. She can never do magic without thinking of Salina. That she has the symbol repeated, along with her own Arcane Mark, in the robes she wears is some indication of favour, affection.

"I would hope, Faran. I would want to forgive her, but it may not be possible, after Menel, after all the others she's killed deliberately. It may be as everyone told Ezil and I about the demon, She is incorrigible. There is no redemption. Like, that priest. They will not come back no matter the offers of sympathy."

She gazes as her marking, holding her hand out, her voice sad, "I am owned. Some will say there is no affection, only desperate conditioning that gives me positive thoughts of her. I still cannot be trusted."

Faranmidahn steps closer and reaches out to take that hand, regarding the mark with a sort of distant disdain, before giving the limb a squeeze, "I... will find a way, Cryo... " she says softly, drawing the hand to her cheek.

At Faran's touch, the emotions come. They are always there for Cryosanthia, something she can ignore but which holds her more than she holds them. Sorrow floods over her, from things known and unknown, for Menel, for Zeke, for the actions she took and from her lost experiences which left the damage even if the why and how are a mystery to her. The sith moans, her tortured warble starting and she pulls her knees up and close, holds her tail with both hands, pupils wide as she stares at the wall and sings her despair. She has a tension grown from years of suffering and as the spring relaxes it snaps at her. She can't stop herself and she doesn't want to, making distressed sith noises which are clear even to non-sith.

Faranmidahn closes her eyes tightly and as Cryo curls into herself, the tiny lucht moves in, spreading her arms to engulf as mmuch of her in her embrace as she can, resting her cheek against her suffering friend's head, trying so har to rock the much larger female. She doesn't make soothing noises, not yet... though the sound of her friend's anguish hammers at her heart... no... she fights back her tears and whispers, "Let it out, Cryo.. that's it... let it out....!"

Cryosanthia pulls at Faran, bringing her into her embrace and balling up around her. Her breaths coming hard and fast. Her sorrow is loud and very close, vibrating through her chest and throat as it escapes in her drawn out cry. Her voice takes on the aspects of it, anguished words on top of the droning, "I did this to myself. I accomplished nothing. I hurt everyone. It didn't work. It's just pointless pain. It hurts and I don't know why."

Faranmidahn doesn't fight her need, accepting her friend's turnaround, though she shifts her embrace to focus on her neck and head, "No. You... you took a chance.. you risked yourself for... for everyone in a way not many could bear..." her voice, for it's faltering, more certain than the little woman really feels under her friend's grief. She clears her throat and, cursing herself a weakling, tries to do better, "You risked. You endured and you suffer still, for us. For me... thank you, Cryo.. but let it out, now... don't let the venom linger."

The sith holds on tightly to Faran. With her volumnous robes it's a like being trapped in a cloth egg. She has her knees up, her arms wrapped around, her tail curled over, clothing everywhere, the little knight is surrounded. Cryosanthia snuffles hard, her long snout and face buried in the poofle of the lucht's hair. She's desperately inhaling Faran's scent like a dog making friends. It's not the right smell, not the one her body wants to detect, even though Faran registers as friend.

And Faran's words get through. She's listening even though her own have stopped. They mingle with what Zeke told her in Mictlan. The suffering has to have been worth it. Salina would never understand the sacrifices of the people arrayed against her. She tries to believe, this is true. Cryo's breathing slowly becomes less panicked. Her anguished moan switches to the thrumble she uses for comfort. "I'm... I'll be ok Faran, for now. I'll be ok. It... comes, I have to feel it. Thank you."

There are several wet spots amongst the folds of Cryosanthia's robe as she relents on her anguish and those little hands switch to gently rubbing along her neck, "It will, honey, but... when you feel the need for a good cry, you know where to find me." she says with a sympathetic little smile, "We... all of us who love you... can only hope to be worthy of the sacrifice you made, no matter it's result... and hope you know how very special, how very dear you are to us all."

"Thank you Faran, thank you." Cryo says, meaning it deeply. The rubbing on her neck, the company, it's all helping. The comforting hum goes very quiet in her throat but it's there as she uncoils so she's sitting with Faran on her lap and not trying to squeeze herself as small as possible. "This one is sorry, it comes so strongly, but when I resist I'm too much like hurt. I hurt everyone worse. I appreciate your patience when it overwhelms me. I think... it has passed. Yes. Thank you."

Faranmidahn cants her head, an odd little smile on her face as she reaches up to cup her friend's cheek, "How many times did.... did I break in front of you, Cryo... and you were always there for me. I can only hope I'll be as good a friend as you have." She brushes her hair back from her face to more clearly see, then, "I've learned so much from you and, you... you've been a blessing in so many ways for me, Cryo. Thank -you-."

"I've made your hair messy. I have to clean it." Cryosanthia waves a glowing glove over Faran's head. Afterwards she brushes and fluffs her some. Then exhales and smiles, giving the lucht a proper cold hug this time. "This one will always try to be there. This one values her friends."

There's a cough at the doorway, a messenger is standing there, "I have a letter for Cryosanthia, I was told you'd be here. Am I interrupting?"

Cryo turns her head to look at him, shaking it slightly. "No. This one is. Please hand it over." He does so, then leaves while she sniffs at it.

"Hmmm. Not the one I hoped. Mikilos."

Faranmidahn shines a bright smile Cryo's way as she is enfluffied and returns the hug, "I love you, my friend..." She blinks at the throat clearning, and she looks out toward the doorway with a somewhat awkward, "Hi!" for the messenger. Once that business is over and done, she turns a curious gaze to the letter, ""I hope it's good news." she muses, perhaps unnecessarily.

Cryosanthia breaks the seal and unrolls the scroll. She spreads it out on the bench so Faran can read it with her. It summarizes the conversation Mikilos had with Niceven, the Fae Queen of the Wee Ones and what he learned.

The Royal Fae have a 'live and let live' policy with each other, and do -not- make war any more. So the other Royal are very unlikely to take major action against Endless Winter. That doesn't mean they like or approve of her. The Wild Hunt will hunt -any- fae, but -only- if they break one of the Laws.

The Queen of Air meets in the Night of No Moon, which in the fae lands is as much a place as a time. She favors gifts of Pain, be it physical, emotional, or psychological. Ancient warriors would start wars in her name to gain favor.

The King of Light is said to be quite insane. He blames elves, the Lost Ones, for the decline of the Fae. He used to grant gifts to maidens who offered him their innocence in the daytime hours, but it's unknown what, if any, traditions he follows these days.

The fae have a fruit which can restore memories lost. Getting them to part with such fruit will likely be difficult, but likely possible.

The first True Death weapons, able to kill an Immortal Fae, were forged by the ancient gods of the fae. If it's still possible to forge such weapons, the method is currently secret. The Queen of Air and King of Light have such weapons, but may not be willing to let anyone borrow them.

Cryosanthia finishes reviewing all his notes. "Well, the fruits and option, and I suppose I'd have something to trade with the Queen of Air and Darkness. I'm not trading what the King wants."

Faranmidahn is blushing furiously by the time she finishes reading -that- paragraph, "Ah-yes! Yes, fruit! Very good an delicious, yes!" she gushes. Ahem, "Do... you think Sally might be trying to forge one? Given that her title sounds like she means it to last, well... she'd have to get rid of the other Crowns, wouldn't they?" The musing about the Queen of Air's proclivities brings some concern to her face and she says, "Cryo... she likes pain.. if you offer pain to her, she could take that as volunteering to be her new hobby until she gets -bored-."

"Don't worry, don't worry." Cryosanthia coos, rubbing Faran's head with her chin, "This one doesn't want to be a possession a third time. It will be seen as an embarassing habit. I was thinking if they could steal the colour blue or the hate from someone, they might take... what I've been feeling. Though I am hesitant, as that might take all feeling, or leave me where I have not ... grown, from this experience. I would give up some, not all. I'd hate to think of Menel and feel... nothing."

"I wonder if Mikilos' obsession with crafting a true death weapon is a blind trail. She is the Queen of Endless Winter, it's tantamount to killing a God. There must always be Winter, Winter must always have a ruler. It might break Ea like the fall of Animus did. I wonder if entreating with the Fae is worth it, they ask much and offer little. Mikilos is now bound to the Queen of the Wee Folk, and we received what? Notice of their indifference, and fruit useful but inaccessible. A little knowledge, but not the groundbreaking ability to forge, or an army."

Faranmidahn nuzzles up into Cryo's chin, mussing her hair up again in the doing, but what are frinds if they can't see you when you aren't at your best?" With further musings about Menel, she nods, "That... would be best, Cryo... as much as I'm sure he wouldn't want you to suffer... it would cheapen him so much to be a hollow memory." She lowers her eyes for a moment, considering something then, "Cryosanthia....?"

"Hmm? What is it Faran?" Cryosanthia curls her neck around so she can look at the lucht easily. She's expressionless, but the happy sort of expressionless.

Faranmidahn looks for a moment like she is having second thoughts, but, she continues to try and frame them, regardless and lifts her eyes again to meet her friend's eyes, "I know, one day your path will move beyond mine, just... when my day comes... just remember how much you mean to me, ok? Don't... don't flog yourself over me... I mean..."

Cryosanthia looks very solemnly at the knight, her words careful and formal, "This one knows on day your journey will end and mine will go on. It is the way of things and it will hurt but I will treasure the memories of our time together and take them forward. I will tell others of the little knight that kept me strong, the friend when I needed one the most. My friends are my treasures, you are precious to me. You will always be. I will... I will be ok."

Faranmidahn smiles sadly and bows her head, "I'm.... Cryo, I'm not a knight... not after what I did to you..." Her tresses writhe some as her head shakes a touch, "I can't be... I can... I can be your friend." She reaches up suddenly to try and hug her head, "I'll always be your friend, I won't do it again, I swear! I'll be better, I'll do it right!" and with every word desperation supplants a little more hope in her tone.

Cryo lowers her head so Faran can hold on and hug. "You are my friend, you'll always be. You beat yourself up too much. She came too fast, She kept Zeke from coming down, there was more in play there than we know. You will not fail me next time, I know you won't."

Cryosanthia rubs at Faran's cheek, carefully with her scaley finger, teasing, "And you had a much better Fae Break. This one is jealous."

Faranmidahn closes her eyes and hugs her tight, "She... didn't break my promise." She holds her for a fer moments before drawing back to look ino her face, still guilt ridden, but looking like she's trying to rein it in... And then the party, "N-next time... together or... not at all." She manages to force about half a smile, but she obviously kinda feels a little bad about that, too. But that gives her an idea, too....

Cryosanthia laughs, straightening up, "Well our next Royal Fae will be the Queen of Pain, the King of Knickersnatching or the Sluaaaaagh. All sound wonderful." Her tail uncoils and sways behind her.

"These... you know, even if one of them tells Mikilos how to make a True Death weapon, it will be more than pounding diamonds into it. Something like binding your soul to the metal and quenching it in the flesh of babies, something too much for too little. It is the way of things also." She shakes her head slowly, brushing Faran's hair again, "Would that you are right, and all this is an elaborate plan for Sally to get a hug and my memories are the key to unlocking her heart and warming it up."

"Maybe someone in Alexandria broke her heart..." Faran muses softly, then glances to the archives, then, "Maybe she was engaged to a king a long time ago and he was just using her and she's just really mad? Fae don't feel time like we do, right?" She shrugs, then, "Maybe we should see about old declarations about royal courtships?'

"That... could be something." Cryosanthia looks at the stack of unread reports, she purses her lips, "There are some in there, about Zahier and his wife. I haven't gotten to them yet. She died, unexplained magical disease. Could that have been Her? Does that explain how she came to possess his Tower? There is also the Lord Morgan, who poisoned his wife, or made her a Vampire. Even... here, the one I was working on."

The palescale spins around on the bench and goes to the notes she was making. "This one, Finding Edgar..."

"In it, A vampire dominated a boy, making him move north, into the Vast. They don't have a dispell or don't think it will be strong enough. A giant white bird steals the boy, has a cold breath weapon, it's a construct made by Zehier. This creature is in fact at least a thousand years old and recently modified. Someone defrosted it, and sent it out on a mission and they added ice magic to it's body. After defeating that, some owlbears, more travel they come to an Icy Tower, 50' tall, with asnowy chimera guarding it. When attacked, it bleeds blue blood, explodes." Cryosanthia looks momentarily alarmed, "I... wonder if I have blue blood. I've bled enough since I've returned, someone would have mentionned that, yes?"

Her momentary self doubt aside, she narrates some more. "They get inside, they find a grate and go down. They find bodies, one of which resembles an older version of the boy, Edgar, who is still outside. The body moves, Murder tries to Murder it, a golem activates, they flee. The body follows, teleports. There was some riddle that vanished. Boy comes back to normal once his older double vanishes."

"Clearly she has found his things, is using them, is..." Cryo's words stop as the memory from a few days ago hits her, "... experimenting."

Faranmidahn cants her head, "I imagine it'd come up, yes." she replies with an arched eyebrow, "I used to wonder if mine was pink." She frowns a little and wonders, "Someone once mused that someone named Sandy can kill vampires with her kiss. Maybe we can get her to take care of Kol?"

"Oh! Svarshan knows how to summon Sandy, and she has Candy! I like that idea." Cryosanthia says, immediately followed by an enthusiastic, "I haven't had her candy in decades! This one must find Svarshan! He has not been at the Temple in weeks. We should note that. Sandy to candy kiss Kol."

Faranmidahn nods, smiling, glad that she got some enthusiasm out of Cryo, "I haven't had candy in a while, myself...!" she muses, then, "Is a candy kiss better than a regular kiss?"

Cryosanthia nods, "Oh yes, I would expect so. The younglings love it. She might have the nice mint flavours too." Her tail swishes heavily beneath the table, scraping the floor.

Faranmidahn blinks, "Ooooh, what's mint?" she wonders, edging closer in curiosity. Her mood seems to have moved on a touch from the recent heavy, and she wonders, "What are mint kisses like? Could they be better than candy kisses?"

"Posssssibly." Cryosanthia sibilates, grinning as she does. "It's a plant herb, it tastes like winter. I enjoy them, I haven't had some in a while. Perhaps, yes, we should go looking for some before the stores closed. There must be some sellers, and if not we could go by Sandy's store and see if she has some."

Faranmidahn brings her knuckle up to her lip, "Do you know where her shop is? I'm afraid I don't." she says softly, then looks into Cryo's eyes again, "I havn't tasted winter, either... it's really hot where I'm from, so I never saw snow until I came here."

The white-scale sith stands, setting the lucht down and brushing at her robes. She looks at the books and maps spread out, "These should be safe, no one has visited in days except to see me. We can leave. This one has an idea where the shop is. We can explore. A walk will be good also."

The Lucht, likewise, squares herself away and takes up her helm, tucking it under her arm before she smiles up to Cryosanthia, "The breeze will be nice, too." Hmmmm, "Tastes like winter...."

Tailswishing, the sith leads her friend out to quest for candy.