Seeing the Finish Line

Log Info

• Title: Seeing the Finish Line
• Emitter: Aryia
• Characters: Aryia, Jinks
• Place: Fernwood Pub
• Time: January 17th, 2022
• Summary: On a dusky night at the Fernwood, Aryia is busy filing in her parents about her recent escapades, as well as about her sister. Jinks strides in with high spirits, checking in on Aryia, and her on him. It's mentioned that they should give this update to the Silverguard, and Aryia is hesitant to do so, though, admits it is a good idea. Jinks admits that he may be at fault for Aya's current circumstance, and Aryia grows frustrated at trying to keep all her emotions directed towards this one goal. He reminds her that the finish line is in sight before flitting off to other smallfolk.

Fernwood Pub, Dusk.

Swirling white gusts dance across the windows that look out from the Fernwood, the establishment alive, busy, yet an underlying tension rested under its pulse with the recent news of the Veil falling.

Nestled into one corner of the bar is a conspiracy of three mul'neissa, a scarred one having about four empty cups infront of them, a fifth being nursed. A shadow elf with an eyepatch is rubbing the half-drunk one's back while the crimson haired elf is leaning back in his chair, idly watching the crowd.

"... and that's my sister," she finishes explaining, taking a nursing sip as she gives her storytelling hand a rest.

The matron's face twists a bit to the side. "I see. That is... certainly a confounding adventure, and premise. Yet we are glad you are safe, and this... ah, lost sibling is more or less accounted for now."

Aryia just bobs her head, a distant expression on her visage as she drums her fingers against the cup.

The Fernwood's door swings open smoothly on well-oiled hinges, just enough to let a larger-than-life gnome and a quick gusting of powdered wind in. Jinks pauses long enough to dust off the shoulders of his merigold woolen longcoat and unloop the toggles down to his belt. The jacket is long on him but he has it hiked up and bloused over a wide leather belt with a massive golden buckle. He has to make his rounds on the way in and stops to chat and hug and/or kiss 'hello' a few familiar gnomish faces in the room. The bard acquires a bottle somewhere along the way.

Done with the throng and through it's press, Jinks notices the familiar mul'niessa trio and cheer wide, open-mouthed, and toothy grin. His arms go out to either side in greeting (with a thumb in the neck of his bottle to keep from sloshing) and he walks his way over.

"Have you heard the one about the painfully handsome gnome that played cards with the Harpist?" A wink at Aryia and a nod at her parents, "Coyote laughs, tallmen."

The small muse's grand entrance is noticed by the crimson haired man, him leaning over to elbow the two women and mutter a quiet update.

Three pairs of eyes swivel over towards Jinks. Khalees chuckles lowly. "Yes, we have. Apparently the youthful you had the stones to do a deal with Lady Death over a mortal game of cards."

Aryia rolls her eyes, her mother clearly hyping up the tale. Which, it certainly was a tale to expound on. The mute waves to the gnome, and gestures towards a nearby seat.

Thirteen-years don't sit too heavily on the gnome's face but they're there; his laugh-lines just that much more pronounced and creeping a bit further from the corner of his eyes. Thankfully, his hair was already white so there's nowhere for grey to creep in and his ponytail and goatee are still full-but-well-kept.

"That young man was a rake and a drunk," Jinks agrees with a half-joking smirk. A nod at Aryia and he sets the bottle down, unbuckles the gigantic belt, and slides out of his coat to drape it on the back of the chair. He has to fuss with his silken shirt's dangling cuffs and collar, making sure they're fluffed and hanging to his satisfaction before he sits down.

"... but thankfully he didn't see fit to shirk responsibility and run. This time." The bottle lifts in toast and he has a drink. "... proof," a pause to swallow once more, "that anyone can change. Maybe Mulria will reform and live a new life as a doting school marm."

"And you, Aryia? How have you been since our return?" One eyebrow quirks.

The two parents laugh lightly. "If she does such a thing and turns a new leaf, then we would more than likely throw ourselves back at her," the father mentions, shaking his head.

Aryia chuckles a bit before sighing and gesturing slowly. It's clear she's in the cups, and the hand on her back is keeping her stable. "The massive hole in my memories fucking sucks. At least I know what I lost, no, traded instead of going mad trying to figure out what it was. I'm just really glad we all made it out alright."

She eyes the gnome. ".. I noticed Seyardu was a bit... older, after all of that. Are you alright?"

The pugilist herself didn't look /too/ much different. Perhaps a few scars were gone, skin a tinge tighter on her face. Like him, a handful of years doesn't make much of a ripple when you've got centuries. <Handspeech>

"Fine." Jinks answers with a wave of the hand. Leaving the subject of Taara-worship to rest. "I might be a little slower to rise after a night's excitement but it's nothing to weep over." He does, in fact, seem quite fine with whatever change he might be experiencing. "I had resolved to not return if that meant Aya-- and the rest of you-- could... so hangovers being worse seems a small price to pay.

"And," another drink and then he sets the bottle down, sitting forward. "This adventure into the afterlife hasn't left me with terrible nightmares. So, truly, a resounding success for us, I think."

The gnome grins and his eyes are genuinely mirthful. "I am regretful that you traded your memories but you will have ample opportunity to make fresh ones in their place. As you've already said."

Aryia pauses as Jinks reveals his intentions if things went south. Her gaze hardens some, teeth grinding slightly before shaking her head. "Was trying to make sure that didn't fucking happen. I just want my friends to be all okay."

She knocks that drink back. Clunk onto the bartop. She waves for another. "At least you're alright. And we're not clawing our eyes out from any horrors."

She looks down to the man, and lets out a sigh. "Yes. Aya wouldn't want me to trade anything that'd be detrimental. Burn myself to keep her warm, so to speak. So I offered something that could be replaced with a look to the future." <Handspeech>

"I don't know her well," Jinks admits, still smiling but without some of the abundant energy he'd possessed a moment before. "But she did something that I wasn't brave enough to do. I owed her, Cryosanthia, and Lily..." He tilts his head and shrugs with his eyebrows.

"Regardless," he grabs the bottle up again. "It didn't come to that."

"Whatever happens next we have to inform the Silver Guard Seldan and his blue-scaled shadow what's happened. Both seemed resolved to see Aya-- or the creatures pretending to be her-- ended and I'm certain this news will change that." He grins and gives a little laugh. "Onto the next world-ending threat," he decides before taking another drink.

Aryia rubs her neck, looking into her cup. "She's very strong. And won't admit it, but likes all of her friends dearly. She's the strongest person I know, and doesn't deserve this fate." Her lips move to say something, but it's unintelligble.

She gives a faint nod. "I kind of don't want to tell him, since him and some others have that thing in their mind with memories that aren't theirs. I don't know if the topic of Aya triggers a response or not. But I get it, we have to. We'll need her real body intact." <Handspeech>

"Who would've thought touching the mind of an arch-fiend would turn out so poorly." Jinks smirks, licking his lips. "They can take precautions. When the Mourner, Silver Guard, and I were seeking the books of prophecy the wizards had placed bells that would thwart magic when rung. Both Seldan and Verna seemed to think that would stifle the memory's influence if it was needed."

The gnome drums his fingers against his bottle thoughtfully, the rings making a percussive chorus. "I'm happy to do it given the opportunity. Seldan and I have already had more than one conversation about how to handle 'the Aya situation.'" 'Debates' might be a better word.

"Is Cesran caught-up? I know he had been helping you track her..."

Aryia scoffs. "Yes. I'm just worried about the times they can't stifle it is all. I've seen Seldan and Verna's power. I'd hate for that to be used on anyone."

She purses her lips, casting a glance to her parents, who have expertly found themselves a few barstools away to give them privacy. "... Sometimes I want to knock his fucking teeth in for shit talking her. But... can't do that."

The mute shakes her head, continuing to sign. "No, I haven't. Haven't seen him since I had to knock Verna out." <Handspeech>

Jinks nods and gives the table a little slap, standing up with his bottle. "I'll keep an eye out for him." One long drink and he sets the bottle down to work on getting back into his coat. It's a bit of a process.

"Lady Serene and I never saw eye-to-eye on my first stay in this city. Really, there are few holy knights I've met who aren't entirely insufferable." The buckle clacks and he's cinching it down high on his hips, maneuvering the abundant cloth of his heavy outer garment. "And I'm sure they'd say the same about me," he adds with a laugh and a wide grin. "Seldan does what he thinks is best. How unshakable he might be in that conviction is the double-edged sword of the mater..."

Aryia's lips quirk a bit. "Please be careful if you do. I can stitch clothes, but I can't stitch a gnome back together after getting cut in half."

She ends up getting a sixth mug, the pugilist swaying faintly in her seat as long ears twitch and flick to listen to him, and everything around them. "I don't think I've met her. But the holy crusaders I've met are basically what you've said. Insufferable, with a stick up their ass. I tried to give the man a thank you for his work and I got a long winded thing about it wasn't just him that did all this. Just take the damn scarf, for fuck's sake," she drunkenly complains.

She glances to Jinks. "Though, I get his frustration. Once we get sister back, I'm breaking her jaw." <Handspeech>

"Aryia..." Jinks is back in his coat now and holding the bottle with both hands, twisting it so that his rings make quiet scratching noises in the glass. He clenches his jaw and sighs, tilting his head to let the words roll around in his mouth.

"What happened with Aya was my fault." The gnome swallows and nods to himself. "I set things in motion that led to her doing what she did. I promised... someone else to keep the details to myself but Aya, I expect, will be more than happy to sing of my sins." He smiles faintly and sighs again.

"Just... be happy she's back," suggests the bard. "She'll no-doubt have enough to beat herself up about... I watched her kill her lover with a single strike."

Aryia's hazy gaze wafts over the gnome, confusion bubbling forth as she processes that. She brings a hand up to press the subject, gets the first half of a sign in, before her hand falls to the bartop and she buries her face in a hand.

Her fingers drag across the bartop, a marking shallow lines in the wood from her nails. Then, and abrupt SLAM as smashes her fist against it.

"I'm so fucking frustrated trying to keep my head cool about this," she admits. "I don't want people to blame, I just want my fucking sister back."

She's sporting a massive frown, boring a hole into her cup. "... I know she's strong, but I didn't know she was that strong to do such a thing..." she mentions. "And I know. That's why I'm only going to hit her once. Then coddle the shit out of her." <Handspeech>

Jinks glances from Aryia to her parents and then back again. "Fair enough," he finally offers. "Well, whatever you need, tallman. I didn't mean to sour you celebrations just... brace you for what's to come.

"We near the finish line and soon you'll have your sister back." He raises a hand in a wave and leaves the mul'niessa to her thoughts. He doens't leave the pub entirely, though, but joins a group of smaller folk instead, leaning familiarly into a zaftig lass with curly golden hair.

Aryia shakes her head, getting rid of the foggy anger as best she can. "Hard to keep channeling this frustration into one thing is all," she dismisses. "Thanks for checking up on me. And... yes. We are near the finish line." <Handspeech>

The parents are watching with a light interest before swooping back in. "I trust all is well?" the matron asks.

The mute just nods lightly, closing her eyes to focus on breathing In.

Out.

-End Scene-