Familial Debt

Early morning, Temple of Althea

A scent of particularly fresh bread lingers near the bunks. Succulent in its warmth, the crisp crust near palpable on one's tongue. That is to say, fresh bread in the morning is well worth spending extra coin to the baker.

And it is good for the teeth to crunch into.

Taking a slow sip from his metal cup, Aelwyn lets out a long exhale as he relaxes against the end of a bunk, one leg hoisted up on it, the other stretched out on the floor. The draconian was well wrapped up in bandages still - his torso and abdomen specifically - but beyond that, the ruddy sith-makar seemed to be in good health. Spirits, may be questionable after his explosive debut.

The Dragoon holds up his large piece of bread and crunches into it, rolling it in his mouth noisily as he stares nowhere in particular. Pot of coffee was hot nearby on a table. Then again, a good breakfast goes a long way.

Recent ongoings witness in secret, but the details were obfuscated through chaos. Gliding through the front doors and half skipping in a brisk pace is a rust red and white egalrin woman, covered in several robes. A hand holds a covered basket, as Slixvah turns towards the bunks. Seems as if she's been here herself a few times.

"Aelwyn..." she sighs, squinting at the Dragoon in assessment before approaching and dropping off the basket on the bedside table. "Heya hon. How ya feelin'...?"

Aelwyn turns his head as Slixvah appears - his usually bright scales were now far more dull. Like the autumn had come to expire. Even worse; his red ribbons were all gone from around his horns. He takes another bite from his bread as Slixvah appears.

"Ribbon," The draconian bows his head, and then replies with a low amused rumble, "Like the skies had fallen upon this one, and not by the good grace of a phoenix." He glances at the basket for a moment, before he holds up the bread towards the egalrin. "Bread? It is fresh." He waves it.

Slix's expression falls to sadness at seeing the makari. "Oh Flutter," she intones, reaching forth to cup to the side of his face. "I'm sorr' hon..."

A little flicker of amusement crosses her face, pulling the hand away to take the bread. It's split in half, and handed back to Aelwyn. "Thank ya."

A glance to the basket. She pulls it back, and reveals a half dozen small, smooth stones. Warmth spills out from it. "Got some hot rocks for ya. Figured ya would want somethin' warm in all this cold."

The bread looked eerily similar to the kind Aelwyn was always ferrying about. He tilts his head at the touch, and then flashes his teeth somewhat. "This one hears the word sorry far more than he used to." He teases, before his attention turns towards the basket.

The contents looked strange to him for a second - but then his grin spreads wider. "Tch, this one hoped there would be bottles..." He puts his cup aside and grabs one of the stones. "... but these ones should fight the chill far better." He flips the stone in his palm for a while, before he settles it down onto his bandaged abdomen.

"Ribbon looks to be in good health."

"Looks like you been through th' wringer is all. I didn' get ta see it, wish I coulda helped some way," Slix replies to the tease, shaking her head with a little chuckle. "Na, no drinkin' fo' ya, ya need ta rest up."

She smiles, sitting down on the bed next to him. "Glad ya like 'em." A moment to peck at the bread in hand, but she shakes her head. "And ya loo' worse fo' wear. D'ya need any mo' healin'? Or you at the 'rest and relax' stage?"

Aelwyn's expression wanes a touch when she says she didn't see it. "Ah. A shame; this one was told it was a fine show. Eztli herself said so." He picks up his coffee cup again and takes a sip from it. "Hmmh. No bathing, no drinking, nothing but the cold of winter. Fate worse than death." Orange eyes trail as she settles besides him.

The draconian shakes his head at the question. "The scales need time to grow in the worst of it," He explains, before he flashes his teeth at her. "And anyway, this one gets to lay here for a while. No need to cajole for a bed for few nights."

Slix sighs, resting a hand on Aelwyn's arm. "A fine show tha' apparently got you all sorts of messed up, hon." She eyes the bandages, finishing up the rest of her gifted bread. "I'm surprised ya wanna chill out fo' a few days. But I don' blame ya after... wha' looks li' a very rough time."

A glance up at his ribbonless horns. ".... was th' rumors true? Was they tryin' ta summon a devil an' stuff?" she inquires quietly.

Aelwyn puts away his own bread. Not the coffee though. It was hot. "Tch, but this one went out there to give a show." He flashes his teeth. "It felt like with the phoenix - to be there was to be alive." He adds, not bothering to hide his excitement. "And the crowd..." The voice slowly sinks, and he takes a sip from his cup again.

"I do not know, Ribbon." The draconian then says with a low rumble. "I barely saw what was happening." He takes another sip from his cup, before reaching for the pot to refill it. "What are they talking about the Troupe now?"

Slix bittersweetly watches Aelwyn get excited, then grow dour. She wraps an arm around his shoulders as he sips from his drink. "I bet it was ta be exictin' fo' ya. Ya love ta put on a good show." A sigh escapes her. "Jus' rumors tha' a devil was banished and people sayin' it was all a show, bu' some sayin' it was for reals."

She looks up at his horns once more. "... need new ribbons?" she inquires.

GAME: Murder rolls stealth: (6)+12: 18

Aelwyn tilts his head, and leans it against the egalrin. "They started chanting. Demons with chains." He takes another sip from his cup. "Now, that is one hell of a show." He rumbles with a flash of his teeth. There's a long growl from the pits of his chest. "Summoning a devil." His orange slit pupils, the bright part of him right now, look up at Slixvah. "There is no sense in that. Why even bother?" He lets out a tch, turning to look at the cup again. "That is not how Troupe did its business."

At the mention of ribbons, his expression cheers up immediately. "This one does, does he not?" He flashes his teeth. "All those tied feelings lost, like cinders in the air."

GAME: Slixvah rolls alertness: aliased to perception+2: (15)+15+2: 32

The Goblin seems to know her way, at least to the bunks where the severely wounded or ill are taken and cared for. Her bare feet make no sound, and Murder uses all available objects to hide behind. Once at the bunks, she hunkers down, and crawls towards Aelwyn's, sliding under each bed.

To pop up on the other side. "Rah!", she says in a decidedly toned down voice, arms upstretched and many teeth on display.

Slix reaches up and gently scratches the side of Aelwyn's head as he leans against her. A frown on her face. "A good show, yeah, bu' if theys was doin' tha'... yeah. Why bother?" She looks down at him. "Tha's now how they did it. But is th' Troupe now th' Troupe ya remember?"

The brightness in Aelwyn gets Slix to giggle, her pulling a wing forth to spill a rainbow of ribbons about in front of them. She's still got the feather-cut red ones on there. "I figured ya did somethin' wit' 'em, wit' how ya got 'em all tied up and what not. But, take ya pick, hon."

A sudden goblin. Slix flinches and blinks, looking down. "... uh, hullo."

At the question about the Troupe being the Troupe he remembered, Aelwyn falls silent. He clicks his teeth - then again. "The nightmare from Felwood." He mentions, "Flayed."

The array of ribbons appears. The grin returns to his face. "Tch, surely every ribbon carries a moment." He accuses Slixvah as he moves to poitn at the feather cut red ribbons. But then he focuses on the more important task - figuring out all the crimson red ones.

Before Murder appears. "... Shortie." A flash of his teeth. "How did she find this one here of all places?"

The little face peers up at Slixvah. "Hi! How're you, Slixvah?" Her ears stand up, and she snorts. "Aelwyn, are you doing okay? Sorry about the healing potion smashing, but it was the only way I could get it to you before they hurt you s'more."

"What'd you do t'get people summoning devils, hmm? Or was it your troupe? There's somethin' fishy goin' on." Murder crosses her arms. "If there's one place t'go to lick one's wounds, it's here. Also here's where they'd be recallin' people's souls. Which I've paid a pretty hefty amount of gold a few times to do for friends." she reaches up to pat Aelwyn's arm.

Eyeing the ribbons hanging from Slixvah's wing, she grins, "Neat! Erm, I brought you a couple of ribbons too!"

The Gobbo starts searching through several small pouches attached to her armor and belt.

Slix somberly nods, bumping her forehead against the side of Aelwyn's head before pulling away and giving a wan smile at the array of color before him. "Nay, not every one does. But if they on me, they'll get moment fo' themselves eventually." That garners a true, closed eye smile.

She regards Murder. "I'm pretty aight, tired, bit worried fo' m'friend here." Context clues help her connected a few dots rapidly. "You were there?"

Aelwyn tilts his head at Murder, apparently confused. "... potion?" He glances down at his chest, all the bandages on it. "... tch, they did say they had to remove shards from this one." His tail moves to sneak about and touch Murder on the side. "This one's gratitude." The draconian says, with a bow of his head.

The Dragoon then resumes picking at the rainbow ribbons, giving them each a little nudge. At some point it became less picking, and more just nudging at the ribbons to see how Slixvah reacts. "Perhaps Shortie can explain what happened better than this one can?" He says, with a low rumble in his chest. "With her usual flair." He flashes his teeth, giving both the goblin and the egalrin a toothy grin.

The Goblin presents two ribbons, one a deep crimson, with a loop sewn in at one end, the other cut into an approximation of a fiery shape. The second is a pale green, also with a loop sewn in, and the opposite end cut into what looks to be sharp, pointed teeth. These are draped over Aelwyn's chest.

"Yes, I was there. Got there just as the show started, but at least I got some good eats. Your fire breath was really impressive!"

She acks and swats at the tail as it pokes her side. "You're most welcome! Would happily smash another potion on ya from a distance, any time!" Murder giggles lightly. "Well, I can't really say too much, though. Once the crowd started chantin', I think that's when the summoning started, somewheres in there. And then four beings appeared and well, ya saw what they did wit'th'chains. Uhm, while I cannot remember th'specific words, they seemed t'be particularly annoyed with ya, Aelwyn."

The Gobbo taps at her temple. "Then the red mists descended and I dun remember much. Came to outside in th'mayhem after."

It takes a few moments for Slix to catch on to what Aelwyn is doing. Once she does, the feathers under the ribbons subtly animate, each nudge met with a return poke at Aelwyn's hand by feather. Sometime in the middle of the prodding, a few feathers have unraveled some more red and crimson ribbons and offer them up.

The witch's brow quirks up at the ribbons given to Aelwyn. "Oh those looks nice," she comments before listening intently. A frown crests her face. "Tha's no good," she murmurs. "Chantin', chains, sounds li' a proper ritual setup, as unique as it is." She glances back down to Aelwyn's torso.

Aelwyn looks down at the chest. "Those are delicate looking ribbons." He says, complimenting them. Though... he then lifts up the green one. "... hmh. Stretching this one's limits?" He flashes his teeth, giving another thwap at Murder's side.

He stays silent during the discussion about the events, instead moving to lightly take one of the ribbons from the egalrin - one of those with several colors in them, though predominantly red.

The chest expands as Aelwyn takes in a deep breath. "They were looking to collect a debt." He says, sliding his hand over his chest. Where the hcains had cut in and torn bits of his scales out. "Hmmh, red mists? This one thought it was just this one's eyes." He rumbles with a flash of his teeth, before turning to flicker his tongue at Murder. "Or just the potion."

Another click of his teeth comes, and he starts to sort out the ribbons out in front of his chest. "To answer her question - no, that is not the Troupe this one remembers." There's a longer pause. "This one is not sure there is still a Crimson Troupe."

"Fire can be of many colours, even green." Murder acks again at the smack to her side, her head turning and her teeth snapping at the tail tip. "Not much of a stretch at all.", she says with a huff. She peers up at the Egalrin. "Not as pretty as yours.", the Gobbo says with a little grin.

Her eyebrows rise up and she shakes her head. "What debt, Aelwyn? What'd you do, out with it. It seems ta be a danger to ya, and that causes me some concern." Her expression saddens a little, "I feel for ya, whomever is collectin' the debt used yer friends to get to ya, or, well... pretended ta /be/ yer friends."

Murder nods to Slixvah. "Ya have t'admit, using th'crowd to get a spell done /is/ pretty inventive. An' they didn't even know, thought it was parta th' show! Probably for the best, else there might be a bit of a panic. More demons... well, devils? in or near the city is not what anyone wants. Been fighting those things for too gods damned long."

Slix chuckles. "Me thinks ya could use some other colors," she agrees about the green. But she frowns slightly. "A debt?" she echoes, but shakes his head solemnly. "Yeah... there probably isn't anymore. Or--" she perks, "--you're the only one tha' knows th' Troupe properly."

She chuckles at Murder. "Thankies. I li' the selection I got." The thought of betrayal gets an annoyed look to cross her face, but ends up sighing. "... yeah, probably good it went tha' way. But if tha's for reals wit' the summonin', I hope they's get caught fo' it."

Aelwyn continues to brush the ribbons across his chest, before he slowly lifts up the fiery one given by Murder. He tilts his head, clicks his teeth. "Tch, in the summer, it might look like a little flame." He then turns his head towards Murder, rumbling. "It was not real fire breath." He grins. "Even better, yes?"

The ribbon is lowered down, and he picks up the green one, narrowing eyes towards the green ribbon. "Not friends. Family." He corrects the other two. "This one's debt is to his family." He rolls his shoulders and tilts his head, looking at the egalrin, then turns towards Murder. "This one left them." He clicks his tongue quietly. "Back in Veyshanti."

Another ribbon is raised. "To speak of them was to flirt with blades; and this one did not wish to speak too much near those around him, lest they get cut."

The Goblin looks disappointed to learn that the fire breath was not real fire, and she pouts lightly. "No, it's not. Real fire is best fire." She crosses her arms and looks away, nose in the air. "Hmmph." She tsks then, at the mention of Veyshanti. "Hmm, still, you might have mentioned it, Aelwyn." Murder gestures to Slixvah. "She and I can help, you know? Or at least try. But we can't do that if you keep your problems to yourself."

She jumps up onto the edge of the bed so that she can loooooom over the Sith. "Especially when they have th'potential to spill out into the general public, yanno?"

Her expression lightens a little and she nods to Slix, "It's a nice selection, goes well with yer plumage. I cannot say how well it goes with your aerodynamics and flying an' stuff, but I'll bet they stream well!"

Aya is not a frequent visitor to any of the temples, and The Healer's may be one of the least, aside from that of Her Husband. Yet she steps into the bunkroom this morning to look about, eyes searching. Unsurprisingly, red and white are a fairly common color pairing amongst those injured and healing; in this case, it is the horns and ribbons that quickly narrow her focus. The mul'niessa then makes her way towards Aelwyn and those gathered about the Makari.

Slix huffs. "Family, even if you left 'em, shouldn't be one ta injure ya, if tha's what I'm picking up. Tha's just rude." She looks at Aelwyn. "Mind you share why you left?"

She flashes a closed eye grin to Murder. "It goes wit' the aerodyanmics quite grandly. And looks cool when flutterin' 'bout!"

The newcomer draw's Slixvah's attention. Her head tilts to the side. "Mornin'," she chirps cordially."

"It was real fire though." Aelwyn grins at the Goblin. "Just not the breathing kind." And at the other words, he shakes his head. "Some secrets are very deadly secrets, and this one does not deal with secrets." The Dragoon says. At Slixvah he glances, orange eyes looking at her. "This one carries a heavy debt for breaking the bond. To run away."

The Dragoon then picks up one of the ribbons and starts looping it around his fingers, making it a light loop. "Yet this one had no idea it is even worse than that. This one's death... Jacob's..." His hands freeze up, and then falls down onto his abdomen again, as he leans against the wall behind him.

"Hnh. Ribbon looks like a rainbow in the skies, whence the mist of wet night simmer atop the endless sands." He grins. "Tch. This one wished the sun was hot."

Aya gets a curious glance from the not so ruddy sith-makar, who glances at the mul'niessa. "... Silverbraid," He finally greets, with a stiff bow of his head.

The Goblin squeaks in surprise, putting Slixvah between her and Aya. "Hello.", she says softly.

Murder peers at Aelwyn then. "Who is, or was, Jacob? Was there an accident and your friend died?"

Her ears straighten up. "Were you involved, somehow? They blamed you, or that was your fear, so you ran away?"

Her brow creases with worry. "And they're looking for you? Seems a li'l heavy handed t'come lookin' fer ya with devils, Aelwyn. Even for Veyshanti, I think that's... a bit much."

She glances at Slixvah and snorts. "Take me flyin' some time? I can meet ya up there, I can fly too!"

"Hello," Aya responds to the avian greeting, though her attention returns promptly to Aelwyn. "You look stronger, that is good to see. I hope that you do not bear any lingering ill will from my actions." There is a mild glance to the others, and enough context in their comments for her to reasonably realize the topic.

She is quiet a moment before she offers, "You owe him, and them, nothing; not if this is how they view you. Your obligations should only be those you chose for yourself. The blood of the convenant is thicker than the water of the womb... or, I suppose, the egg."

Slixvah frowns at Aelwyn. "All should be free ta leave bonds they don' wanna be in," she opines. Seeing Aelwyn drop his hands makes her wings droop. "Thanks hon," she intones, but more interested in this person called Jacob, glancing between Murder and Aelwyn as they talk. "Me thinks its a bit much, too."

A nod towards Murder. "We can pencil it in, got otha' stuff ri' now ta focus on." A glance towards Aelwyn.

The beribboned witch tilts her head at Aya, listening carefully. They were there? She opts to take in the mul'neissa's words, their bluntness the opposite of Slix's methods. But it might garner more information out of her friend.

Aelwyn's eyes narrow and his eyes stare at Aya for a time, before he shakes his head. He holds up his hand to cut her off. "She does not understand." Then others chime in and he takes in a deep breath. Hand crushing a ribbon - before he flings his hand up and points a finger at her- "That is not how it works! Not how anything works!" He hisses between his teeth. "Debts are not broken! Not to anyone, and especially not to your Family you owe your life to!"

He breathes in and drops the ribbon. He glares at Aya for a while, before he looks for his cup of coffee. "... The Master of Ceremonies, he is my brother." He rumbles after that, letting out a rough sounding huff over his cup.

"... but this one is grateful to Silverbraid for keeping the crowd safe." He says - with very little humor in his voice. It was near accusatory.

Murder eyes Aya and Slixvah. "I think you misunnerstand the word family in this context.", she says gently. "Yes, the bonds of friendship outweigh th'ones o'family, buuuut, I think that Aelwyn here has been part of the troupe for some time. A fellowship. They're family in th'way people you know and love, your friends, become kin. Th'people on th'tightrope? They gotta trust each other. Put lives into others hands, right? They /are/ family.

The Gobbo gestures. "There may be oaths sworn. Also... lives saved. I could see how a life debt would be one he wishes to honour."

She glances to Aelwyn, "Why don't you tell us what happened? Maybe we can help you fix things, ya?"

So much for that hope, it appears. The ribbon in Aya's braid (likely explaining her namesake) shimmers as she nods to Aelwyn. "I regret that you are still pained, and hope that time may mend your wounds." Her arms cross before her.

"You are right," she then concedes to both Aelwyn and Murder. "I do not know the nature of your family, nor the details of your debt. I only know the actions that I witnessed; actions that shared nothing of bonds and only hate. Perhaps time may allow his wounds to heal as well."

Slix flinches from Aelwyn's outburst. Her beak opens, but quietly clacks shut, whatever words she was going to opine kept to herself. Save for- no. Her beak closes again. Best to save it for later.

Except a sky blue eye squints at Murder. "No, I don't misunda'stand," she says simply. They squint further. "If oaths are sworn and ya turn ri' round ta ask wha' happened, ain' ya bein' a lil' too nosy?"

She raises a brow at Aya. Then rubs her face with a heavy sigh. "I dunno wha' ta think anymore."

"Will there be time?" Aelwyn asks, looking at Aya. "He died there." He clenches his fingers into a fist and relaxes, and clenches them again. "Hhhn." He cannot really speak much more than that, just... agitation. His orange eyes glared around him, as if they fire themselves.

Finally, he looks at Aya and manages to grit through his teeth. "... where are they?" He asks, tail slowly thumping against the bed. "Where they were taken?" He slowly breathes.

Then, after a moment of calming himself down, he straightens to a more even sitting position. He glances at Slixvah, then shakesh is head, before he looks at Murder. "... this one left them during a mission." He looks at the cup, looking sourly into the dark void. "Does this one have to really elaborate?"

"True, what happened there in the tent wasn't a display of kinship. But we don't know what happened between them." She shrugs at Aya, and glances at Slixvah. "An oath sworn doesn't necessarily mean it is meant to be hidden at all costs. Surely it can be described without breakin' it. And it doesn't mean he can't talk about how he broke it, or why he owes a debt."

She eyes Aelwyn and sighs. "No, you don't, but it could help in understanding. Suit yourself."

Murder peers at Aya then, to see if she has answers for the supine Sith.

"He fell," Aya admits to Aelwyn, "but he was revived. The fiend did not remain manifest. I do not know where your brother was taken, but I presume he was taken by The Watch; to the gaol or a magic-resistant cell if he was still a danger. Yes, there is time."

A hand gestures to him. "You live, he lives, so there is time for healing, of many sorts. If you yet consider him your brother, and he thinks you his, then there is opportunity and path, as well."

Slixvah hazards reaching over and placing a hand on Aelwyn's as he grows agitated. Aside from a curious glance about knowing where the Troupe was now, Slix mostly has her attention on Aelwyn. "You needn't elaborate, hon."

She looks at Murder. "... I mean, yeah. But me thinks pryin' about such intimate things that relate to ya recently losing a loved one, the crux of being in a temple's bed, an' an overall sore spot while still recovering is /kind of/ tactless," Slix doles out, getting a touch heated for her friend.

A huff escapes her, the egalrin smoothing down floofing feathers on her neck. "... oh. Well, tha's good news. Um..." Awkward. Pick up some bread, offers to the trio. "Bread?"

Aelwyn waves a hand at Slixvah, trying to calm _her_ down this time around. "It is fine." The not-so-ruddy sith-makar rumbles. "This one understands. Eventually, all the masks fall off." He gives a look towards his bedside and his satchel bag; where his box laid empty. "It would have been right. The Troupe - this one's debt. Family protects its own. "

Then Aya gets a longer look again - but slowly, the bandaged up makari starts to clamber away from the bed and back onto his feet. Despite his injuries, the missing chunks of scales and flesh, and the burnt scales, he was recovering very well, thanks to all the magics and potions. "Silverbraid." The Dragoon states, as he stands in front of her. Then he bows his head deeply. "This one is in her debt for saving this one."

The GOblin seems relieved at hearing good news for Aelwyn from Aya. She glances sideways at Slixvah. "Have you been around many Goblins. Not all of us are prim'n'proper. Some of us are rough edges." Her eyes narrow. "And show their worry diff'rently. And I suspect I know Aelwyn more'n'you. He's not exactly prim'n'proper either."

There's a crunch and chewing noise as she wolfs down the bread offered to her. Hiccuping, Murder eyes widen at the Sith standing up. "Don't let th'priests see ya standing, they get mad."

Aya's hand starts to lift, fingers up and palm out as if to wave it away, yet before her head shakes she reconsiders. Instead, she nods as her hand now extends to Aelwyn in offering for an arm- or hand-clasp. "Very well. If your life is owed me, then I expect you to keep it strong. Mend yourself, body and mind. Mend any bonds that can be, reconsider those that cannot be, and forge new bonds with those who would aid you."

The corner of her lips curl upwards in a light half-smirk. "Do not be so hasty to sacrifice yourself for others. It may be honorable, it might even be necessary one day..." Her smirk fades as her lips flatten to a line, "... but the consequences may extend far beyond what you expect." Then to a momentary frown. "That I can assure you."

Slix raises her hands in surrender. It looks like she's going to offer a counter, but she lets that die on her beak. "Aight, fine."

A light flicker of a smile crests her eyes at Aya's directive. Some sensibility, finally. Or was it experience talking? "Yuh, lay down, Flutter. Ya can't dance missing half ya guts," she chuckles.

Aelwyn sways his behind - and then taps Murder with it once again at the prim and proper line. Instead of commenting though, he reaches for the arm-clasp and lets himself be straightened. The burnt out sith-makar looks down at Aya, orange eyes looking quite fiery. "Hmmh. This one is not in the business of self-sacrifice." The Dragoon responds, "But all debts will be paid, in the end." There's another bow of his head. "This one shall seek to her words."

There was still fire in his eyes - that agitation lingered - but the severe tone of his voice suggested he was not taking her words lightly, either.

Words spoken, the draconian turns towards Murder and Slixvah. "Tch, but this one was already entertaining Spellreader outside." He protests, spreading his hands out. "This one shan't fall over from just standing up."

-End Scene-