No Hypocrites Here

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Log Info

  • Title: No Hypocrites Here
  • Emitter: Aryia
  • Characters: Aryia, Aya, Venom
  • Place: Memorial Gardens
  • Time: September 22, 2021
  • Summary: In the Gardens, Aryia is doing some snooping around to see what sorts of sights could be seen. From seemingly nowhere, Aya scoops the mute mul'neissa into a hug. Very uncharacteristic of her. Which is explained succinctly, Aya having to eat her own advice that she gave unto Aryia, about a personal development. Some light, yet supportive, ribbing is traded between the two, as well as some surprisingly wise words before Venom appears in her own joking manner. Aya wishes the two well, and she departs, and the two silent figures converse. Mostly speaking about a person that wasn't there and how much Aryia wants to help and give them some way to make both of their lives a little bit more tolerable. Venom hints that such a person might be doing something similar. After a lull, Aryia shows her cestus that she broke, as well as a minor phobia that she possesses. Such topics are figured to be spoken of in private, and they head on a path towards the TarRaCe.

Memorial Gardens, Midday.

Such a day is dour for most. A murky grey, veiled by light mist, with a slight chill to the still air. To the more sensitive, it is a welcome boon to walk about without a perpetual squint and a hand over their brow for self shading. One such a person was walking about the gardens, doing something a bit... out of their routine?

Aryia, in her usual attire save for a pair of intricate silver shades planted atop her head, is kneeling in front of a bush of various flowers, them blooming to soak up what little light there was, and all the moisture there was an abundance of. In her hands was her journal, and she was scribbling down notes about something or another, taking glances at the small sign that described at it was.


A dour day indeed, for some. As well, the mist only adds further to the shadows cast by the trees. Who knows what might lurk in such places?

Aryia would, or shall promptly, as she is suddenly not alone. A presence emerges from the shadows behind her, and she may realize such too late, for she is suddenly enveloped...

...in a hug from behind and lifted from the ground!

"Ha! You should be more alert, sister..."


Aryia was wholly focused on the task at hand, a sense of purpose oddly in her frame. It was the middle of the day, certainly nothing would hap-

She suddenly lifted up into the air, the mute woman making a withered gasping sound of surprise as pen and page clatter tot he ground. The slightest bit of brawler's intuition kicks in, arm slipping under an arm, legs locking around a waist to disrupt balance. Then she looks over her shoulder to see who her surprise assailant was.

Milky eyes blink. A stupid grin cracks over her face and she twists around in the hold and returns the embrace whole heartedly. "... s-st-r...!"


Aya does not object to the switched embrace (she did start it, afterall), though releases Aryia after a moment. "Good day to you. I assume yours goes well?" A brow lifts with the query. Aside from that gesture, something seems ... wrong. Not her sudden appearance, of course; that is commonplace. The hug? Hrm... far less so.

Ah, yes. There is the issue; something appears wrong with her face. She is ... smiling?


Aryia's feet fall to the ground with a light step as she's released, her folding her hands behind her back on swaying on the spot. "Hee.. heee..." she breathily chuckles. Though, she stills, and squints slightly.

Kneeling down briefly to pick up her dropped belongings, her head tilts to the side. "Yes, it is a good day so far. And... yours is as well? I never took you as the hugging kind of person. Did... something happen?" <Handspeech>


Aya nods in response. Twice. She begins to respond in kind. Rapidly. "Yes. That should have happened a long time ago. Perhaps it could have, and I did not notice..." Her smile tightens as lips purse at that thought, though she banishes the thought.

"I know that you are suspicious of Daed - Daechir, but I would ask that you allow him to earn your trust." <handspeech>


Aryia's head cants in the other direction. Her smile muting the faintest hint, as her own white brow rises high. She signs a simple motion, a hand near a temple that pulls down with pinky and thumb extended. "Why?" <Handspeech>


"You would have me trust Venom, yes?" Whether intentional or not, rather than spell out the name, Aya uses the literal for venom or poison. She may have her own concerns, or still has some protocols to learn, or her hands simply outpace her brain at this moment.

"I was always ...fond of him, but he... asked for my favor. Said that he wanted my heart, had for some time..." She pauses in portions to consider the correct word choice, though the last is formed without difficulties. "So I gave it."

Aya's smile then wavers and turns into pursed lips of consternation as, after a pause, she follows with, "Am I a fool?" <handspeech>


Aryia just stares for a long, long moment, not correcting the person's name for the time being as she had to process. One could practically see the dots connect in her head as she goes from suspicious, to surprise, to joy, then to a positively shit eating grin.

She jabs Aya in the sternum, "You had to eat your words, didn't you!" Aryia motions as she throws her head back in a silent guffaw. It lasted no more than a few beats before her visage smooths back out to a warm beam, her taking one of Aya's still hands into her own, slightly scratched up hand. "We both are. Happy fools. You deserve this just as much as I do. With all the effort you've given to people." <Handspeech>


The staring and suspicion do not help Aya concerns. The surprise was, at least, expected. By the time Aryia is grinning, though, the fret on Aya features has washed away.

In response th jabbing finger and words, Aya's returned smile twists to her far more common smirk. "In fact, he made a rather delectable dinner, which is what we ate. He has excellent taste: in food, wine, clothing, and -obviously- women." <handspeech>


Aryia snickers, her leaning forward and propping herself up by holding onto Aya's shoulder. She smirks, gathering herself back up as she crosses her arms and leans on her back foot. "Well shit, you must obviously be feeling better if you're partaking in... dinner."

She winks, and elbows Aya in the ribs. "He is rather cute. Those eyes, right?" <Handspeech>


Aya's smirk deepens at the first remark and the ribbing. She then nods at the last comment and her smirk warms... flutters(?) into a wistful smile. Aya promptly adds, "Yes, he has wondrous eyes... and words to match. Such a talented, yet earnest tongue... We skipped dessert... or to dessert." The wink is returned. <handspeech>


Aryia's face reddens, but she shakes her head and snickers, lightly punching Aya's arm as she rolls her eyes playfully. "I figured he wasn't a selfish person in that regard," she motions, visage growing hotter as the topic remains. "But seriously, Aya. I am happy for you. I can tell you've been overwhelmed. So I'm glad you opened up just a little bit to someone else. I recall you being quite cold the first time we met. A smile suits you better." At that, she pokes Aya's cheek. <Handspeech>


The poked cheek brightens with a dusting towards crimson at the comments; another expression not typically familiar to nor associated with Aya. "Thank you," she speaks plainly, and earnestly.

While in that frame of mind, however, her face cools back to the norm, and her smile nearly so. She meets her sister's gaze to reveal concern. "I am worried, Aryia. This is all very new, and could not come at a worse time. A few months past, I had none to be concerned for but myself. Now I have a sister, and Daed, and others..."


Aryia's exuberance dulls as well as reality settles in, the mute mul's gaze settling to be off the side. She's pensive. Then proposes a rhetorical. "Would you rather die having known all these new things, to feel like you were in your first century again, or wait for everything to blow over, when the candle has no more wick and the wax has melted away due to time, just to play it 'safe'." <Handspeech>


Aya's brow arches at Aryia's question for thought, if just that it is unexpected. As she considers it further, her other brow lifts to join its counterpart. She then dips much further than a nod and into a bow.

When she straightens, her smile has bloomed anew, albeit now with pride and warmth rather than ... giddiness. "You are a wise mentor, my sister. Thank you."


Despite the way Aryia acts, with her naivety of daily life and, at times, crippling social capabilities, one tends to forget that, she too, has decades and decades under her belt. Though the bow gets her to quickly snap back into being her usual waffling self. She waves dismissively, more of a flail of a hand than anything as she smiles sheepishly. "Oh uh, you're welcome." <Handspeech>


Aya eyes Aryia more firmly and adds a jab of her own finger before gesturing adamantly. "I am proud of you. You earned my respect, and more. Do not be ashamed of that." <handspeech>


Aryia holds up her hands and shakes her head quickly. "I am not ashamed of that. The only time I know shame is walking out of S-A-N-D-Y's store," she was quick to riposte. <Handspeech>


With the heavy talk occupying the minds, tongues and hands of the two Mul'niessa, it could be said that there would never be a better oppurtunity.

With little preamble, there is a whuff of movement, and a gloved hand is extended to the snowy locks of Aryia, index and middle fingers held pointed together, with the thumb aimed to the heavens.

This comes with the click of a tongue.

Perhaps an ill-timed opt-in for play, but, there's something to be said for trying to keep the rust off.

Venom, should a noisey, beatsome response not be the inescapable, will signal a quiet, "Hi!" to the two elves. <handspeech>


Aya's expression softens and her lip curls. "Then you know not to do so again." If she happens to notice the encroaching 'threat' to Aryia, she gives no indication of such. A wingwoman can be an asset, especially when shaking off rust or dust. <handspeech>


"Unfortunately, she does do good work. I just have to try everything on under the blasted sun," Aryia grumble signs.

She tilts her head to the side and her silver clad ear twitches. And she turns. Milk eyes go cross eyed at the sudden deadly prop pointed at her. The click makes her blink.

And smartly, she raises an arm up, her lips making a "P-ng..!" sound. A beat. Then she realizes who it was, the other half of the performance. A quiet gasp, and Aryia bounces on the spot, a broad grin on her face as a hand grabs onto the prop. "Hi!" she fires back.

But she stills, glances to Aya, then back to Venom. And her face tinges pink. "... Venom, you've met Aya. Aya is my sister." She doesn't elaborate about other relationships among those present.

"Not by blood, but in spirit enough," Aryia adds after a pause. <Handspeech>

Aya returns the greeting to Venom. "Hello. Sisters in all ways that matter. Blood is not thicker than choice," she offers clarification. "I trust you are well this day?" <handspeech>


Venom's head shifts anglee just a little bit at the response from Aryia. A silent, still moment, and her other hand reaches out to pat-pat the one encompassing her 'gun' hand.

Her noggin lists slightly the other way before pivoting toward Ayaas Aryia elaborates on their new familial arrangement.

She takes a minute to process that, especially, if the subtle shift in angle is any indication, with the add on from Aya herself.

Her hand flexes, flicks and twists through several moments as she signs, "Congratulations. Family is important." A pause, then, "I'm well, thank you." <handsppeech>


Aryia is all but beaming up at Venom as pleasantries are exchanged and as the veiled one works out the new information in her head. She says nothing more just yet, the journal under her arm slowly being slipped away into her bag. "I'm glad to hear that," she motions once her hand was free. <Handspeech>


Aya offers both of them a half-smile that has no small amount of wry, yet is not -quite- a smirk. Maybe. She then gestures, "If you are anything like my sister, your view of the day shall only improve from this point, as I know that hers shall. While I would enjoy being further acquainted, and it was a pleasure seeing you both, I have some other matters to attend to. I will leave you both in each others' capable hands, for now." <handspeech>


The veiled one seems to be taking the information in as it's presented. Her head turns back to Aryia as she signs a response, then gives a little affirming nod.

Her attention turns then toward Aya, who has clearly more understanding of their communication than she had before.

Or more than she let on, anyway.

She takes in the reply and gives a little bow, signing in turn, "That is the hope." She gives that a second, then continues, "It's nice to see you, again. Be well!" <handspeech>


Aryia flushes faintly from Aya's gestures, but she smiles warmly anyways. She breaks off from Venom, gives her sister a brief hug, and pulls away. "Take care. See you later at the TarRaCe eventually." She sticks her tongue out at that one. <Handspeech>


Aya gives Venom a nod in acknowledgement and farewell. Aryia's tongue-extending comment provokes a true smirk. "I must break that addiction one day." There is a delay before she adds, "Fare well, sister." She then vanishes as as she arrived. <handspeech>


Venom folds her arms a moment as Aya makes to leave, and gives the elder Mul'niessa some paces to do just that before she turns back toward Aryia.

A beat.

Two.

Then, from just at the hem of her poncho, she signs, "Addiction?" <handspeech>


Aryia seems unfazed as Aryia vanishes in her usual manner. She gives the wisps of shade of another wave, her stepping back to be next to Venom.

The mute woman blinks at the gesture, then grins. "The bathhouse!" she answers without a beat of hesitation. Then, a slow inhale with a gasp. "Venessa would LOVE it! I go there all the time! It's so relaxing!" <Handspeech>


That place has come up a few times in conversations she's had in the past.

"She probably would. Food's good, too." she signs discretely, then, "Have you been well?" she wonders. <handspeech>


The shorter woman smiles warmly, stepping forward to be in Venom's personal space. "She should come with me some day..." she trails off, watching the veils sway for a beat before answering the question. A lightly scratched up hand motions, "I've been really good. Thank you for asking. And you?" She takes her silvery shades off of the top of her head and closes them, hanging one of the arms on her collar. <Handspeech>


"Fine, so far." Venom replies discretely, then, after a pause, "It may happen, if the timing works out."

The veiled woman turns to get the garden a lookover, then, "Why here?" <handspeech>


Aryia gives a sheepish smile. "I hope it does."

The mul'neissa joins the enigma in looking about, her ending with her head tilting to the side. The scarred shadow elf stands a bit straighter, her poking the tips of her fingers together as her face tinges a hint ruby. "I- uh- was just... looking at flowers and... seeing what looked nice and- uh- um-"

She looks down to her feet and gestures in small, mumbling motions. "...trying to find things to do with Venessa..." <Handspeech>


Venom nods, considering the little smile on Aryia's face, head listing slightly in that way of hers.

A gloved hand splays it's fingers, palm down, then lowers a touch, "Calmly." then the wrist flicks side to side, "It's alright."

Her hands come together with a soft clap, then, "She must be something special, that you would look for such things." <handspeech>


Aryia settles down some, her nerves always a bit frayed when trying to speak of such topics. A combination of fumbling in the dark and going with what felt right.

She looks up, milky eyes going past the veil. "Yes. I think she is a special kind of person, that is a lot like me in a lot of ways, and much smarter than me. We've both had terrible lives, and I want to change that, just a little bit."

The third subject of the conversation seemed to be helping somewhat now, as she stares firmly into the veiled woman's persona. <Handspeech>


Venom nods,perhaps knowing how the Mul'niessa feels, somehow. Her head is slightly canted, and through the veils are her other 'layers', though the dark eyes beyond twinkle behind the sheer weaves.

She starts to sign again, "If she's like you say, she probablys means to do the same."

"What makes you think she's smarter than you?" <handspeech>


Aryia's smile turns more demure as she folds her hands in front of her. "... if she does, I'd... really like that. With whatever it is she comes up with."

She shifts a bit on her feet, a thumb massaging the back of her faintly cut hands. "... she... knows how to do a lot of things," the mute begins to elaborate. "Like... make guns and... know a lot of languages. Some that are apparently not very common. She's good with numbers, and I'm terrible with them. And she knows a lot about little things, were I only just now learned how to read well." <Handspeech>


"She had a different upbringing, probably. A lot of your life, you were probably purposefully kept away from a lot of knowledge. You didn'tkow handspeech when we first met, as I recall, but you learned it rather quickly." the veiled figure notes, "Being smart isn't just having information. It's being able to pick it up fast, and how well you use what you know." With that, she gives a slow, indicative nod toward the smaller figure, "You've made good decisions quickly amid new situations."

A pause, "If she doesn't recognize your gift, she's an idiot." she adds bluntly, then, with a shrug and another pause, "...if you don't mind my sayin so." <handspeech>


Aryia gives a bit of a silent snicker at that, her looking down to her hands and smiling softly. Letting the gestures of the veiled woman settle in. "... she also knows how to make me feel better and see things from a new perspective," she mentions, glancing up at Venom. She holds the eye contact. "It's okay, I don't mind." <Handspeech>


Venom nods, a flicking a quick, "Good, we work well, together. Undue friction would compromise that."

Her hands come together for a moment, fingertips tapping against their twins for a beat, meeting the Mul'niessa's eyes, but takes a moment or two to think of what else to say. <handspeech>


Aryia shrugs some, tilting her head back to look up at the veiled woman better. She reaches out, putting a hand on Venom's arm for a long moment before motioning with a hand, "I think it may take a little bit more than undue friction to mess that up."

She too brings her hands together. Tapping them just the same. All the actions she wished to do wouldn't work with the persona going on, and she promised to respect that. Instead, in the strange mind of an elf, somehow her thought process spits out, "I broke my gloves."

A moment. She holds up her hands, the backs of the flesh covered in tiny, healed over cuts. "Just punched the shit out of training target. It exploded. The gloves, I mean." <Handspeech>


Venom's head cocks at the blurt.

The persona was proving to be more of a hindrance in certain regards, wasn't it?

There's a pause to process that, and she starts to sign in return, "You could use the oppurtunity to practice stitching." as a suggestion, "Even it it doesn't work out, it can let you refine your technique." <handspeech>


Considering the fact that she wanted to tackle the enigma into a hug, it certainly was.

Aryia shakes her head and reaches into her small bag, there's a rustling, and she pulls out her pair of ces... tus? The cold iron metal was brittle and weak, the plates sheared off and shards dangled free. Like it couldn't handle the force of a strike behind it. A piece falls off, and clinks quietly against the ground.

"I don't thinking stitching includes smithing."

A couple of brittle plates fall off and clatter to the ground. She looks down, then back up at Venom with a straight face. "... I don't think I need these anymore." <Handspech>


Venom watches the unpacking with some discernable curiosity, though the examination is somewhat curtailed by the battered platse giving up the ghost, and she seems to track descent of the first to the ground. A beat, then the shrouded woman dips into a crouch to collect the debris, each piece clinking into her gloved palm, "You might want to replace them, anyway. Sometime, you don't want to actually touch something."

A pause, and her head cocks, "That reminds me..." another pause, then, "I've never seen you use any other weapons." <handspeech>


Aryia kneels down as well, picking up a few shards and shoving them back into her bag. A scarred hand brushes against a glove, on purpose or by accident, before she rises back to her feet, shoving the destroyed weapon back into her bag.

She shakes her head, looking off to the side with a slight twinge to her lips. Perhaps a frown. "I... don't use weapons. I don't like holding them, I don't like the feeling of them going into skin," she admits, rubbing her arm, revealing a small facet of one of her phobias. "I guess I could get new ones. But I got them to deal with the ashwings. I think I hit hard enough for them now. I could just get like... some leather gloves or something." <Handspeech>


Venom considers that in silence for a moment or three, then nods, thinking some more.

About at the five count, she starts to sign again, "I can show you something that would let you answer flying creatures, or targets some range against you."

Another pause, then, "You have quick hands, I think you'd do well, and you wouldn't have to feel the impact." <handspeech>


It was Aryia's turn to cant her head to the side. But she smiles. "If you want to show me something, please do. I might even be able to show you a thing or two." Was that a... smirk? The ghost of one, at least. Looks like her sister had been rubbing off on her.

She shrugs. "I don't care about breaking bones and snapping things. I feel that all the time. It's just the... idea of stabbing something or cutting it just..." she shudders. "It's why I didn't want my ears pierced."

She thinks for a moment longer before adding, "Like I could throw something sharp and I think I'd be fine but I don't like actually stabbing. Sorry I'm... complicated..." she trails off, wringing her hands together. <Handspeech>


Stillness, as Venom stare at the Mul'niessa.

Four...five...

Then a discrete, "I'm sorry. I didn't understand at the time."

Another pause, then a other subtle, "This is probably a talk we should have alone. Maybe with food?" <handspeech>


Aryia resists the building urge to step into Venom's personal space this time around, her rubbing her arm as eyes flick to the subtle motions. "It's ok. I forgive you," she excuses without hesitation. Though, her smile slowly returns, and she looks up at Venom with large, shiny eyes.

"Yes. And maybe something sweet to drink...?" she signs, finishing with her hands clasped in front of her and held to her chest. <Handspeech>


Venom dips her head and signs a slow, "Thank you."

Her head angles a touch, though she doesn't shrink from the large shining gaze holding her through the veils. She takes a moment to consider the presented addendum, and she nods, "They might have some new juice. The Tarrace has some exotic stuff, maybe they'd be willing to part with a jug or two?" <handspeech>


Aryia's smile grows. "Yes, they do! And they changed their menu around! Maybe I can also show you what the baths look like? So you can scout it..?" she suggests, tapping her fingers together again. The elf takes a small step towards the western road. <Handspeech>


Venom nods twice and gives that a few moments before she signs a slow, "Perhaps."

With Aryia already heading off westward, she cocks her head a bit, then starts to follow after. <Handspeech>


With the enigma starting to follow in her wake, Aryia's smile solidifies, and she happily leads the way.

Today is a good day.

-End Scene-