Lick of Flame

Log Info

• Title: Lick of Flame
• Emitter: Aelwyn
• Characters: Aelwyn, Aryia
• Place: The TarRaCe
• Time: March 8th, 2023
• Summary: Slixvah finds Aelwyn reading over a map and toying with some fire, the former learning that the Dragoon's affinity for flame is more than just an idle association. They speak of family, educate of leylines, as well as how witchcraft came about.

The TarRaCe was still quiet; the noon rush has not quiet settled in. Partly because the weather outside was nearly tolerable in the sun, so people did not come to shelter from the storm.

Except a ruddy sith-makar wearing an open white blouse. He was seated by one of the tables towards the back, with a rolled up parchment laid on the large table in front of him. The paper, with several lines, was held open by a dagger.

Though the parchment with its various notes seemed to hold very little interest to the Dragoon right now; instead, his attention was fully focused on the small tabletop brazier, whose flames were licking his hand. Sliding his hand in and out of the flames, pushing forward and back, the fire idly followed his guidance. At least for now.

She's still working here. Still that same sharp dressed woman, in a red vest and black slacks, slides by Aelwyn's table. It's been some time since's Aelwyn's unintentional insult, so the bartender's coldness has ran its course. "Doin' 'aight ova here, shug? Need a drink? Snack? Lamp oil?" she asks, teasing with the last bit as Bartender-Slix glances to the open parchment.

"What'cha dooooooooooin'?"

Aelwyn turns his head when he is suddenly interrupted from his thoughts. He leans back and straightens - his chest seemed to carry fresh bite marks. Thanks to effective healing though, they were mostly just whitened scars on his orange abdomen now. There's a moment of a pause when Aelwyn looks to be somewhere else - but then his maw opens into his toothy grin. "There's a face for the good of the day." The draconian grins and flicks his hand up - the flame makes an upward gesture and then flicks the draconian right back. Healthy working relationship both ways. "One of them." He adds, with a slowly tail slide.

The open parchment was a map in fact - with lines criss crossing this way and that. A more magically inclined might notice similarity to ley lines, except they were all over the place. The sith-makar's blocky hand writing was utterly incomprehensible, though. "Hmmh, getting ready for the shift. Relax the feathers, Ribbon?"

Not-Slix tilts her head aside, a platter held under an with with a lop sided grin on her face. She's taking in all the information beset before her, and less doing any ogling. "Thankies," she chuckles, raising a brow as she fire moves at Aelwyn's behest. She's... actually impressed. "... huh. I'll be dammed, that's prett' cool."

She peers at the map, and taking the offer, she slides into a chair next to him. "... loo's like a leyline map, 'cept its all wrong. What'cha doin' wit' tha'?" she inquires, seemingly familiar with the topic.

Aelwyn can't help but to wriggle his tailtip just slightly at the compliment. Well, quite a lot. His hand lazily moves over the brazier and he squeezes the fire between his fingers - before he gives his wrist a flick and slides it off alongside it, as if caressing it. "Hmm. This one misses this." His chest expands as he takes in a breath, but he leans away from the brazier at last. "Reminds of the -" A moment of pause, "Road."

The draconian bows his head momentarily. "There was the meeting at the Guild." Casually, he drums up his fingers across Near-Slix's back of the chair. "Talk about leylines and crystals and gods dying. It would make sense to understand them for the jobs, no?"

Not-Slix nods empathetically. "I totall' get that. That bit o' time where all my wing feathers broke off? Man, felt li' I was missin' a part o' me fo' the longest time. Guess maybe it went away fo' a bit, and is gonna come back stronga?"

At that, she grins, noting the hand but not paying attention to it. "Ah. Yeah, I was there. Quietly takin' notes. Need some info? I /am/ a magic woman."

Aelwyn's teeth are exposed. "Yes. This one barely understand what a leyline is, but not eager to be swallowed up by on either." He neatly turns the parchment around on the table - his heated fingers leave a set of dark marks on the paper.

As to her other comment, he slowly reaches up with his hand to run it along the quills of his mane. "This one's been thinking, that perhaps it should not come back." He finally lets out. "It's... maybe it would not be wise." His orange pupils stare back at the brazier - but then he gently pushes it aside to reach for his notepad and pen. "Now how does a set of feathers deal with magic that's gone?" He asks with a grin as he twirls the pen between his fingers, "Maybe this one needs to help with the preening?"

Slixvah chuckles, taking the paper to inspect it closer. "Yeah, don't ya'd prolly blow up. And not in a firey fun way."

She peers over the paper. Brows raised. "... not wise?" she echoes. "Tha's... gonna be real, that don't sound like ya. Ya embrace change and living in the moment."

The question poised makes her scratch the space in front of her face, where her beak would be under the human illusion. "Then its just a set of feathers without magic. But what's left still has uses in its own right. Maybe its stronger? The vessel has adapted without the magic crutch and can harbor more?"

Aelwyn leans back and then after a moment of amused look on his face, gives Slixvah a grin as he spreads his hands. "This one is not suicidal, Ribbon." Just nearly. His fingers continue to flick his pen about between his fingers. "Family's a complicated thing." That makes him pause for a second, and then he tilts his head towards the human-Slix. "What happened to her brother anyway? This one quite liked him, though perhaps next time this one should reserve him his own bath."

His eyes continue to stare at Slixvah for a time. "This adapting and vessel speak makes this one think Ribbon has found some kind of epiphany about herself." He leans in closer with a playful glint on his eyes. "Something about that makes her stronger through weakness?"

Not-Slix gets a confused look about her. "Family? How d'ya mean?" she asks before her face loses a bit of its enthusiasm. "... ah. Yeah. Zanzi's helpin' my family move. Dunno when they'll show up. He doesn't stay places super long." A stare. "Please don't hit on my brother."

She looks back to the paper, idly perusing and she chuckles. "Yeah. Sort of." A glance up, and she rolls her eyes playfully, pushing Aelwyn's face back to get some space. "It's jus' part of nature. Evolve ta deal wit' somethin' ya ain't got no mo' and it comes back. 'sides, I ain't phyiscally strong, so I gotta think real' hard. Especially when I didn't have my extra pair of hands around." Her referring to her prehensile feathers.

Aelwyn lets out a low hiss that thrums in his chest, as he lets himself get pushed back by the face. His eyes continued to carry mirth as he gives a snap of his teeth. "Oh, the thought would have never crossed this one's mind." His tongue slowly flicks out from between his teeth, as he tilts his head towards the side. "Until now." Tail taps against the floor in a happy tune.

The talk about the family does make him look very evasive, but eventually he buries his hand into the brazier. Moments later, his fingers come up and splay open - and there's just a momentary shimmer of the fan of flames stroking across his hand and wrist in turn. "It will come back, hmh." He flicks his head over towards not-Slix. "This one thinks it would be better if this one is left missing." A click of his teeth, and he gives a momentary glance around the TarRaCe, "And maybe that is what they think too."

The ruddy sith-makar's eyes return towards not-Slix. "So what should this one know of the lines?" A toothier grin. "Or should this one go order wine and see how things evolve after the bright of the day is gone missing?"

Slixvah rolls her eyes. "Ugh. Look. Try as you might, he's dense as hell. No way he'll ever pick up what you're puttin' down."

There is a start of seeing someone willingly putting their hand into hot fire, but she relaxes somewhat, intrigued by the way the flames wreath across the makari's hand. "And why should it be left missing?" she asks. "You always seem to be chasing fire. And now that its coming back..?"

She shakes her head. "Save the wine, I'm on shift," she laughs. "What 'bout them? I just kno' they've been acting weird. Ley lines are basically like, the way the magic flows 'round the lands. Think of it like rivers. The lines are like rivers of mana, pure magic energy. And when they get to a lake, a Magnus Point, there is a well of energy there. Very fascinating stuff."

"This one is not sure if he should be awed at his restraint or saddened by what he'll be missing." Aelwyn replies, wriggling his tail behind him. "Life goes both ways, this one supposes." Looking at her for a moment, he then spreads his lips apart, just a touch. And then shuts them. He twists his lips for a moment, then he idly muses in a more cooler tone. "It is nice to have a family." A large blocky line is drawn on his notepad. "Maybe they will visit this city." Another line, right next to the other. "Imagine the reunion." The paper is slowly pulled up and then torn apart, by one the lines. And then in half once more.

"Though this one supposes she does not have to imagine - it sounded as if they are moving." A big toothy grin. "To Alexandria?"

The ruddy sith-makar leans back then and sprawls over his chair; one hand starts to button up his blouse, while the other seems to take notes of her explanation. If vague shapes work. "Then why are they such a problem? This one did not understand why old gods have to do with it. Or why they are blowing up."

Slix watches the paper and lines getting pulled, and glances to Aelwyn. Unsure of the symbology at play here. "They are moving to the Aerie east of here. My whole family. All fifteen of 'em," she mentions, her usual excitement absent. "It is nice, yeah. But ya kno', family is what ya make it. M'sure ya troupe ya was a part of might've felt like family, yeah? No less valid."

She glances down to the blouse, finally noting the healed injuries. "Hrm. Get in a brawl?" she asks before shrugging. "I dunno why they a problem. But them blowing is up is what led ta my magic bein' born. But they can be a problem when they get outta whack. And somethin' or someone is messin' with 'em, from what little bit of research I've done wit' others."

"Mmh, her magic was born out of those leylines going wrong? Then this one is even more confused about what Guild is worried about. Then again, this one has been offered whispers. Maybe this one should have listened." Aelwyn says, finally buttoning up his shirt. "Dire wolves and their small ones." He responds to her other question as glancing over towards her. His teeth are exposed his teeth, "Scars look good? Or better without?"

The ruddy sith-makar can't help but be amused by her lack of amusement, "It sounds as if she has made plenty out of her familiy. They're even moving closer. Playing favorites?" His eyes momentarily look a bit absently over her shoulder, before they return to her. Relaxed, he spreads his hands again. "They say the Troupe knows no return. No second shows. Part of what made the next day worth living."

Slixvah nods. "Well, I ain't get it /from/ it goin' wrong. But the type of magic ain't exist until it happened. Then I learned how ta do it after th' fact. Th' guild should be worried tho', it's an unknown variable, with way too many ways it could go wrong and cause a lot of damage."

She squints. "... offered whispers? What whispers?" she asks, intruigied. "Scars are scars. Sorry ya had ta deal with' thems. I fought 'em before, no fun. They only look good if you think you like them. If ya don't, then be rid. I'm sure I got a couple unda the feathers somewhere."

"I guess I can see th' appeal of that. But it kinda sounds like ya talkin' of two different families here." His amusement is met with her enthusiasm dying down so something more somber. "... well, no. I love 'em greatly. Jus'... the reason fo' the move ain't good. And its still hard fo' me ta process still."

She's quiet for a beat. Then: "... so... a landslide destroyed the aerie I'm from," she mentions flatly. "Tha's why m'brother was lookin' fo' me."

"Tch, so they just don't know. That's not going to make Guild's jobs any easier then." Aelwyn sighs, throwing his pen onto the table. "At least this one knows that much now." At her question about the whispers, he turns towards her. "This one does not carry whispers. What one does not know, cannot be carved out of you." And then he grins. "And what is the use, if this one cannot even get a feather twitching with their scars?"

The ruddy sith-makar tilts his head a bit upwards, then he looks towards the fire. "Two families to the outside, perhaps. But one family within. Always the one family."

The Dragoon's thoughts are interrupted at her sudden words and his orange eyes turn towards. "... ah." He finally replies, with a click of his tongue. He reaches over to put his hand on her - probable - shoulder, and gives her a bow of his head. "They are all right?"

Slixvah shrugs. "The guild doesn't know everything. Tha's why they doin' all this stuff ta get it figured." His talk of whispers get her interest to wane, a sigh escaping her. "Sorry shug, you should know by now its personality that gets my feathers ta twitch. But someone else might be all ova ya fo' it."

She joins him at looking at the flames. "I see..."

His hand does find her shoulder, it passing faintly through the illusion to rest on the robes underneath. She gives a weak smile. "... none died. But my healing expertise is to be needed when they get here. I... don't know the extent of the injuries, but I'll do what I can." A sigh escapes her, shaky. "... lotta politics wit' me and my home, I just 'ope the Aerie here takes them in full fledged."

Aelwyn gives her shoulder a, well, mostly a warm hand. "Then there's the next morning, won't there?" He then slides his hand off. "This cannot speak for politics, but this one trusts she and her brother will figure it out. Or find a place where the fifteen and a Ribbon will fit." Meanwhile, his tail moves to give her chair leg a bit of a tap. "Don't go saying this one doesn't have an enrapturing personality and then being sorry for it." He peeks his tongue out. "At least buy this one a drink first."

There's another pause and he gives not-Slix a glance. "How did the landslide happen?"

Slixvah softly sighs, relaxing some from the gesture. "Yeah. There is always next day. You're right. Just glad they got time ta figure it." She can't help but snort. "We've been there, done that, hon."

She shakes her head. "I dunno. I gotta ask. Gotta a lotta worries 'bout what it could been, but I need ta put that aside so I don't get wrapped up in the sads."

The bartender sits up more, her lightly smiling to Aelwyn. "I appreciate ya concern."

"Tch, a moment in the past is not one in the future, Ribbon." Aelwyn says, tilting his head at her with his own horns' ribbons falling in suit. "Maybe this one should buy her the lunch. This one will not have her be sad on this one." A toothy grin. "This one will barter a lunch for either a slap or a smile."

He bows his head at her. "Of course. Though..." There's a pause, then he looks at her. "... perhaps she should keep some of what this one said about the Troupe for herself."

Slixvah smiles lightly, her reaching over to pat him on the arm. "... actually. I'll take a lunch if ya offering. That's mighty kind of ya."

She gets to her feet. "I don't know what you're talkin' 'bout," she cheekily says, giving a knowing wink.

-End Scene-