Divine Responsibility

Log Info

• Title: Divine Responsibility
• Emitter: Slixvah
• Characters: Slixvah, Schara
• Place: Lower Gardens
• Time: February 9th, 2023
• Summary: Slix comes across Schara napping in a tree, the egalrin imploring them to get to a proper bed else they'll be sore. Slix asks if Schara possesses any magic, as well as if they've felt anything remiss about it. Schara wishes to aid in this endeavor about finding out weird ongoings with magics, especially if Slix has an appointment to ask more questions, but Slix reveals it is with Elunites. A philosophical discussion occurs with an ending of comfort after a stressful time.

Lower Gardens, Nighttime

Such a night would garner a bone chilled evening, were the winter wind be suspect, but in the Lower Gardens, Dana's domain influences, and the still green shrubbery remains steadfast and the air warmer than the rest of the cold stone of the city.

Amongst the verdant paths is that of a beribboned egalrin woman. A long, colorful scarf wrapped around their neck and lazily trailing behind them alongst the rainbow of ribbons. In her hands is a unraveled scroll, constellations easily seen with their dots and lines. Occasional glances from the scroll to the open night sky are taken. "... starts lookin' a lil' diff' today," she murmurs to herself.

What brings an artificer out to the gardens? A few things, this time being food and a nap, in that order. Up in one of the many trees around the paths was a dozing elf tucked between a few sturdy branches up above, with a half eaten apple resting on their stomach, and another bag hanging from another hand.

Slix is still messing with her star chart, look down, up, down, up, down, up- She comes to a stop. Blinks, then tilts her head to the side. "You gotta a real smart head, but sometimes I wanna slap some sense inta ya," she grumbles quietly to herself as she gets to the base of the tree. <Auran>

A long, animated feather unravels and reaches up.. up.. up... Poke poke. "'ey. Sleepy head. Ya gonna tweak ya back like that."

Some other animated feathers on her other wing unravel to be under the branch. Ready to catch, just in case.

The elf sleeping up in the tree yawns once, and shakes themselves awake at the prodding. "I'm fine, it's just a tree, I made sure I could sleep fine in it." Schara responds, rolling over and looking down, their hair braided and dangling down beside them. "Hello Slixvah, why are you poking at me like that?"

Slix's feathers waft back and behind her, opposing the breeze, their length threatening to touch the ground, but instead waft above in an ethereal manner. "... 'cause most people don't sleep outside when its winter?" she mentions. "I get tha' the gardens are a lil' warmer. But like, ya need a room or somethin'?"

"It's fairly warm here, I wasn't expecting the magic in this place to fail while I was sleeping. Your feathers are very long today, is that normal for egalrin?" The elf yawns in response. "Not to mention one of the gardeners letting me pick some apples off this tree. It's quite interesting how the growing seasons change here, these ones are normally later season harvests, but it's the middle of winter here. And I can always sleep in one of the workshops at the artificer's guild if I have to."

A bundle of feathers come together and press against the ground, lifting the egalrin a few feet off of the earth as they easily lift her to be more or less level with the artificer. Slix grins, "No, absolutely not. You've never seen me at work, have you?"

"Regardless of my oddities, it's still like... ya kno'. Ya gotta take care of ya'self, Scha-Scha. I've seen how rough ya back is," she sighs. "Sleepin' in th' trees ain't no good. That's fo' birds," she giggles.

"Oh, certainly not, I don't know many egalrin, but I've never seen an egalrin suspend themselves on feathers before, not in a flying sense, but a physical weight sense, you know what I mean, I'm assuming it is some form of magic to make sense." The elf notes curiously, before rolling back over, grabbing the apple with their teeth and hopping down from the tree. Leaving a moment for the elf to awkwardly eat the fruit without their hands before the core was dropped.

"No, I don't know, Slixvah, you can't assume. But don't worry about that, it should cause any issues, and the fresh air flow is probably good for me anyways. It just took a lot of time to get up there in the first place, that's all."

Slix bobs her head. "Yeah, it's a magic. A very special kind of magic that a lotta folks side eye a lot." She blinks as Schara hops down, the egalrin lowering herself as her feathers resume their ethereal waft. "It's essentially just an extension of m'self.

At that, her feathered brows furrow. "Your fervent adherence to independence is both commendable and somewhat frustrating, if I'm ta be blunt. But whatever," she tweets, gesticulating with the star chart in her hand. "I do got a question: how magically touched are ya?"

"It's witchcraft then, given prior circumstances and what I know, or at least I assume it is witchcraft." The artificer shrugs. "It's an extension of yourself, but normally feathers stop growing once the blood supply is cut off. I don't know how egalrin feathers work, anyways."

The elf sighs, and leans back against the tree. "I know I am frustrating, but if it keeps other people out of trouble, well, whatever means drop it, right." She shrugs. "I'm, touched magically? Not sure what you mean, Slixvah."

"It's witchcraft," Slix confirms. "I do a lotta magic that manipulates my form, yeah? It's basically second nature at this point."

The bird-woman shifts on her taloned feet. Looking like she wants to quip, but she holds herself back from it and grinds her beak instead. "Touched, magically. I kno' elves got a bi' of magic wit' 'em," she elaborates. "I jus' been doin' a bit of snoopin' 'bout, and was wonderin' if ya magic, if ya got any, has been feelin' off as of late. I dunno how sensitive you are to the Sea or not."

"Well, I'm not touched magically, I don't think any outside forces caused me to develop any magical aptitude, really. As for touching things magically, I can't touch things normally particularly well, though I guess I could use my nose, or a foot, or any other portion of skin, but most people referring to touch usually mean someone's fingers and hand." The artificer shrugs. "If you mean my capability for magic, then it is above average for an elf, mostly just for the process of imbuing other objects with it, but I haven't noticed anything out of the ordinary with what I do."

Slixvah rubs the side of her beak. "Schara, sweetie, in this circumstance, I don't mean /physically touching/," she smiles, though has an undertone of exasperation. "Yes yes. That. Capability of magic. Okay. Good to now-" she looks down at her star chart again, pulls out a pen from her many robes and scribbles something down before tucking it away. "Just tryin' ta figure out shtuff. I got an appointment someplace ta speak 'bout weirdo magics. And not mine."

"Well, I don't know which you meant, I was trying to figure out between the two most likely options, capability of magic was just an afterthought, and I was already thinking about the fact that I was just prodded physically with magic a few minutes ago." The elf sighs, shaking her head before looking back up at the apple tree. "Oh, I see, and you need me to speak about my weird magic instead? I could do that, if you needed. It wouldn't be any trouble."

Slix just stares at Schara a moment. Blinks. Then shakes her head. The feathers wafting behind her shift in a dismissive motion, almost like she was waving off the topic. "A philosopher named Occam, khzad man, came up wit' a way of thinkin' ya might be privy to. Boils down ta: simplest explanation is the usual answer."

She recenters herself and rolls her scroll up. "... what, are you volunteering to come with me ta this appoint? I don't think you'd want to go," she mentions. "I was just askin' those tha' feel mana if they've been feelin' it any differently is all. I'm pretted tuned in to tha' flo' so I get some weird fluctuations at times."

"Well, they probably have a point, but I bet that they get surprised by things they aren't expecting quite a bit. Probably gets more confused by words meaning different things than I do." Schara shrugs. "Just because I don't want to do something doesn't mean I shouldn't do it, especially if it means helping someone. I was volunteering because I thought you needed my help, or maybe you don't. I can't say I get any strange fluctuations, but that could simply be because I don't hand on to any magic that I manifest usually, what with it being put into functional objets, but I could add some way to monitor things further if necessary."

"And ya volunteered and helped by tellin' me nothin' was remiss," Slix says, gesticulating aimlessly. "Everyone's mojo manifests differently, but oneself can tell it's off when it's off."

There's a soft sigh mingled with a beak clacking. "I'm just sayin' ya wouldn't wanna go 'cause I'm talkin' ta a bunch of Elunites, sugar," she mentions bluntly.

"I know, but there has to be more that I can do to help, right? More than just asking about how mana works." Schara huffs. "It could just be that I'm not sure what to look for. I don't know any elf who is completely incapable of magic, at least without outside circumstances, or proper training. But maybe all of them really are feeling out of sorts, since I don't go out of my way to talk to them."

"I can put aside my own frustrations and grievances to help someone if I have to." The artificer continues, slumping down with their back to the tree. "I can always just nod and keep my mouth closed if they start proselytizing."

Slixvah rubs the side of her face. "Look, hon, here's th' thing. I dunno /how/ ya can help right now. It's why I asked if ya felt anythin' funny to see if I had a lead. You're sweet, but ya ova' thinkin' this one, Scha-Scha."

"And you're gonna get proselytized. Elvish society loves they Eluna, and theys gonna gab about that fo' a long while, and I'm gonna indulge them," she explains. "Mages up in the Society are tight lipped, but the temple of the magic goddess should lend me some insights of somethin' goin' whack. Like I said, I don't mind ya helpin', but I don't know how ya can yet. And, if I'm to be /brutally honest/ with ya, smooth talkin' clergy don't seem like much ya can help wit'."

"You're right, if I don't know what's going on, then I guess I can't really help with this, can I?" The elf admits, with a defeated sounding sigh. "Especially if it's a bunch of elves preaching about how great Eluna or Daeus are, then I probably would just get too angry to be of help at best, and an active detriment at worst."

"Everyone's always indulging them, because they can't be flawed, can they?" Schara huffs, crossing their arms over their legs once they're bent into place. "If the gods still listen to them, they're doing the right thing."

"And if a piece artifice gets fussed up, I really can't help wit' tha', can I?" Slix proffers sagely. "We've all got our strengths and weaknesses. Ya doin' plenty right now wit' ya readin' and advancin' ya artificery. And sellin' them amulets. I work best talkin' ta people."

At that, the egalrin crosses her arms and rests on her back foot, a few animated feathers subtly pressing against the ground to make it look like she was leaning against the air. "That's the thing, Schara. The gods are flawed," Slix states flatly, eyes half lidded. "If the gods were not flawed, there'd be only one god, as there'd be no need for others. The fact there are facets to every single one, temperaments and personalities, aspects of life they envelop, criteria that they hold dear and anathema they abhor. They are flawed by their nature. Why they are separate from man? I dunno. But like their flaws, their representatives can be a shining example of brilliance, or a curmudgeon that barely fills in the lines."

She unfolds her arms, and lifts one hand up. "Who's the same of the Thuulite that conducts the atrocities in order to learn them so they can share what not to do? Or the Taaran that touts the Dark Lady's magic is superior, only to find that her magic is just another flavor in a vast ocean of taste? Or mayhaps the Korite that grows tired of war? The Serrielite that condones a bit of uncivility so civility can blow off steam?"

"What I'm getting at, dear Scha-Scha, is that even the gods' own have their dregs. And for why they are not cast out, we do not know. It simply is. And perhaps, it is not for them to do? Are we not man, unbound by our free will? Perhaps those dregs are meant to face justice at our behest?" She shakes her head, slumping a bit. "Sorry, your repeated frustrations got to me. I am a lady of the faiths, and shirking all that is to be and is to come is like ignoring the tide to yell at the moon for its involvement."

"I'm not doing enough." Schara answers flatly, bending up their legs and burying their face into them. "I know they're flawed, I know people are flawed, I'm flawed too. But all the clergy who take someone at face value, they aren't as bad, but they still are. All the people in town doing the exact same thing because they believe because someone is a cleric they can do no wrong? As if it wasn't bad enough that my family had to take care of me still, they're actively making their life worse because of me, that isn't fair, or right."

"If they're meant to face justice, I haven't seen it, Slixvah." The artificer sighs. "I don't know if I ever will."

Slix softly sighs, her waling over to Schara and crouching down beside her, bowing her legs out. A wing unravels, and rests around the elf. "That cleric that fooled so many is to blame, for both their heresy of not aiding those that need aid, and for deceiving others into thinking Daeus' Light only belongs to those that can afford. It is not their clergy, it is not the town, it is not your family misgiving. It is on them."

"But that-" she quickly says, pointing to Schara as she leans down to look the elf in the eye. "-that right there. I hear it. I feel it, unda tha' words. Your drive. You don't know if they ever will face justice? /They/ don't know that their insolence has harbored one insanely smart and ingenious elf. You want justice? Keep doing what you're doing. Figure out the depths of what artifice can do for you. Make them regret pissing you off. You are doing enough. I see it. And I'm certain if you went back to your family, they would see it too."

There's a playful little glint to her eyes. Perhaps a /tinge/ of empathetic rage. "And who knows, maybe you'll run into them someday. And maybe you're super sick arm fire cannon /accidently/ goes off in their general direction? Like their face?"

Schara looked up slowly, and the elf blinked once. The elf looked like she was about to say something, but she just sighs, taking a minute before she spoke again.

"Maybe there's something you're saying there that makes sense Slixvah, there probably is. Maybe I'll be around long enough for there to be some manner of justice, that would be good." The artificer admits, but there's a pause, and the elf frowns. "But, I don't know, even after everything, if I could go that far. That's still murder, and that would only make things worse for my family at the end of the day."

"Gosh, you're adorable," Slix laughs, playfully rolling her eyes before she leans down again. "There's another kind of revenge that taste just as sweet. And I already think you're on the path fo' that. Sometimes th' best way ta get back at someone is ta just live."

"Live, honey. They will not have won as long as you draw breath. As long as you press forward. And like mentioned, we both live long lives. Perhaps there will be a day you will cross paths with them, and you can show them how they /failed/."

The egalrin smiles: shown in the eyes, and the faint tugging of the corners of her beak. "After all. I am a living testament. Elders want me gone from the Aerie? Alright, fine. They'll regret me leaving, and know look at what a cool fuckin' bird I am now!"

Whatever the egalrin was saying, the moment Slixvah spoke of living, Schara buried her face back into her arms, the elf sobbing loudly into herself. The artificer continuing for several minutes, before coughing and rubbing their face into an arm. "Sorry, Slixvah, I'm assuming your talk of tasting revenge is a phrase I don't recognize either. And you are cool Slixvah. I'm sorry your elders want you gone." Schara finally responds.

Slix was the more emotionally attuned of the two, and she had an inkling something like this was burst forth. She pulls Schara in with arm and wing, cooing softly, "There there, honey, it's aight ta cry..."

She soothes Schara for as long as needed, but she can't help but chuckle. "It's justice, sugar. Tha's what I'm gettin' at. But it's alright, it's in the past, and I've moved on."

A giggle. "And yeah. I am pretty cool!" Woah woah, slow it down, the bird's ego is growing. "How's about we get ya situated wit' a room at the Fern and get ya face cleaned off, yeah? Storm's gonna roll in any day now, I can feels it."

"It is justice, I guess." Schara nods slowly, finally managing to peel their face out of their arms. "I think I should probably sleep in a bed tonight, and the fernwood is close, with good rooms." They agree. "If the storm is in a few days though, then I'll have to prepare for it."

"And, thank you, Slixvah. I don't have many fiends, or much experience with them, but I'm fairly certain you're a good one."

Slix takes her scarf and dries off Schara's cheeks with a happy little squint to her eyes. "Thankies. And of course, sugar. You're stubborn, but ya mean well. Ya got a lotta potential, I just wanna see ya make th' best of it!"

She rises, the animated feathers of her wings offering to help Schara to her feet proper. It's odd. They feel soft like feathers do, but posses a tension and tautness not unlike steel. "Now let's get ya ta proper rested."

-End Scene-