A Discussion and an Intrusion

Maligorn

The summit of the mountain stands tallest among many in a volcanic range which breaks the barrier of white clouds below, and the shallow caldera of this one in specific has been cleared to create a terraced courtyard which stands open to the air. Distantly, some of the volcanic peaks glow with an inner heat, and one or two throw trails of smoke to the sky. Sweeping clouds of the barrier below the peaks stretch on to a crystal clear, aquamarine horizon, bands of soft white waves ranging across a sea of dusty blue-grey through which hints of lands below can be seen. Above that sea, the sky fades from aquamarine at the horizon to a cool and star-studded blue-violet overhead. Across the courtyard within the caldera, however, small and reflective tiles of all types, sizes, and materials have been arranged in patterns of clouds and feathered creatures. Echoing the patterns, twisting outcrops of metal with a platinum sheen rise in shapes loosely resembling flocks of interconnected birds or singular birds of prey, their eyes marked with small precious and semi-precious stones. Shifting and shimmering in undulating waves, heatless sparks rise in a rippling fountain of light. The graceful, translucent form of a bird of paradise dances in the air, the insubstantial image shifting through a constant stream of vivid colours. A smooth scroll crafted from silk lies on the ground here.

You pant like a dog.

You say, "Sprinting up the mountain. Quite an endeavour."

Shadows grow longer in anticipation for the return of their dark mistress as Father Sun's chase brings him closer to the world's edge.

Talan Ysav'rai, the Voice of Reason says to you, "I should have picked you up."

Talan Ysav'rai, the Voice of Reason says, "But you ran off so quick."

You see the following people here:
Aerys, Elanorwen, Talan, Maligorn.

Sparks of colour twirl about the caldera's rim with faint amusement.

Commander Elanorwen Pavok of the Air Force says to you, "I keep telling you... practice, practice. A good mage will want some muscles and endurance, too."

Elanorwen nods her head sagely.

Talan Ysav'rai, the Voice of Reason says, "I have this handy means of getting right to Avechna."

"Pish posh," you say with a dismissive wave of your hand.

Castellan Aerys Tarsuhl looks thoughtful and says, "If you were looking at a book cover comprised of primarily opaque white crystal, would yellow gold hardware look good? Such as metal corners, or perhaps the book clasp or lock."

Motes of light around the caldera pulse brightly as a soft voice echoes, "If you will please direct your attention to the scroll on the floor, you may read Elanorwen's ideas about the tenet of Sacrifice."

Aerys's ears perk up with a sudden interest.

You wipe the back of your hand across your brow in relief.

You perk your ears up as an errant topic catches your interest.

read scroll
(Page 1)
OVERVIEW
____________
 
Others may speak of passion or the lack thereof, embracing one aspect or
the other. Some may even claim they embrace both. Still, when it comes
right down to it, we are all creatures of passion and we react in a
specific way when someone seeks to harm, injure or offend us. What this
set of rules to live by strives to accomplish is show everyone that
negative emotions such as hate only bring more of the same by responding
to hate with love, to sadness with compassion, to aggression with
kindness.



LOVE
_____________
 
It is easy to love another, even easier if they are nice and sweet, kind
and gentle. But what if you were asked to love an enemy? Someone that
has attacked you both verbally and physically for as long as you can
remember? Not as easy, as it turns out, but if we respond to hatred with
more hatred, we will only get the same in return. So next time an enemy
growls at you or makes a scathing remark, respond with a smile. Of
course, some cannot be recovered and it is also our job to show them our
love by showing them the error of their ways, be it with a well-placed
word or a well-placed jab with your sharp object of choice.
 
Most will claim that emotion is the enemy of justice. They will also
step forward and claim that the best mediator is the one that can ignore
emotions and be completely impassionate. It is my opinion that the same
can be accomplished while governed by emotion as well. If two people
have a dispute and their mediator loves both with equal measure, then
that mediator would be just as suited, if not better suited than an
impassionate one.



COMPASSION
_____________
 
Easiest way to respond to sadness is with pity, but pity is most often
perceived as a negative emotion in and of itself. Most cases, the people
that are pitied the most are the ones that need it the least. As such,
strive to respond to them with compassion. Give them your friendliest
smile, a shoulder to cry on and try and listen to their problems so that
you may provide them with the best possible advice to help solve their
problems. In doing so, it is likely that you will gain a friend. Of
course, there will come a time when you will run into an individual who
is sad for all the wrong reasons. In a case such as that, the best way
to show compassion is to point out their errors, the way you see them,
even if doing so might hurt them.


KINDNESS
_____________
 
It all comes down to this. Being kind to everyone, no matter who they
are, what they do, or what they've done in the past. If they need your
help, you should be there for them, give them support and show them
where they might have wronged you. Of course, there might come a point
where it might be more prudent to show another the ultimate kindness and
help them end their existence to end their suffering. Should that time
come, make sure to accomplish this task as swiftly and as painlessly as
possible.

Four genies burst out of their bottles, whirling around Elanorwen as they wrap her in ribbons of multicoloured light.

As the sun passes below the horizon's edge, Mother Night unveils her terrible, shadowy beauty, spreading darkness across the land.

Talan purses her lips pensively, gazing off into the distance as she carefully gathers her thoughts.


You look thoughtful and say, "Interesting."

---

Talan Ysav'rai, the Voice of Reason says, "Well, as a personal philosophy."

Talan Ysav'rai, the Voice of Reason says, "It isn't exactly mine."

Elanorwen's eyes sparkle with amusement at Talan.

Talan shrugs helplessly.

Talan Ysav'rai, the Voice of Reason says, "But if it helps you, then by all means."

(Hallifax): Aerys says, "I can fulfill your need for a tailor, if you'll allow me a few moments to attend to a matter presently at hand."

Commander Elanorwen Pavok of the Air Force says, "It hasn't really been mine, either... but I feel that it fits. Perhaps not perfectly..."

(Hallifax): Astro (from the Air Elemental Plane) says, "Of course, thank you."

Aerys tilts her head while gazing at Elanorwen, her crystal body flickering curious shades of light green.

Commander Elanorwen Pavok of the Air Force says, "And as such, it is perhaps something to aspire to."

Maerad suddenly appears, looking bewildered.

Castellan Aerys Tarsuhl asks Elanorwen, "If this hasn't been your personal philosophy, from where do these thoughts come?"

Across the heavens, the stars and moon challenge night's dark reign, revealing familiar constellations that tell the tales of myth and legend.

Maerad Windwhisper, Student of Temporal Science shuffles on the spot, ruffling her plumage in embarrassment.

Commander Elanorwen Pavok of the Air Force says, "Oh, they are my personal thoughts. Just not a
philosophy I have lived by."

You say, "Killing them with kindness, it seems, has been taken to an extreme level. I think that that requires more explanation and depth. Despite the absence of true death in our Realms, owing to the absence of Dynara and Magnora, taking another's life must be justified, and then doubly justified, and perhaps make the reason clear in triplicate."

Aerys sucks thoughtfully on an emerald cubix.

Elanorwen smiles softly at Maerad.

Talan Ysav'rai, the Voice of Reason says to you, "It doesn't really work that way in practice though."

Castellan Aerys Tarsuhl looks confused and says, "I cannot place why, but I have to say that these thoughts don't entirely resonate with me either."

You tilt your head and listen intently to Talan.

Motes of light around the caldera pulse brightly as a soft voice echoes, "What struck Me is that they appear very Razielan."

Talan Ysav'rai, the Voice of Reason says, "People die - people must die - for obscure reasons, all the time."

Castellan Aerys Tarsuhl says, "At least, the majority of them. I do agree with the basic thought that everyone is deserving of kindness."

Talan Ysav'rai, the Voice of Reason says, "See, I don't agree with that either."

You say, "Perhaps -- but as Hallifaxians we must strive to not obfuscate the facts, as the blinding Light or the tenebrous shadows."

Castellan Aerys Tarsuhl says, "For myself, such kindness has different forms depending on to whom it's being given."

Talan Ysav'rai, the Voice of Reason says, "Spoken like a non-combatant, honestly. Death does not - cannot - always make perfect sense."

Talan Ysav'rai, the Voice of Reason says, "For example, Nayl kills our citizens."

Talan Ysav'rai, the Voice of Reason says, "Because his wife is from Gaudiguch."

You say, "Certainly it can. With Truth, everything can be examined to the most minute detail."

Talan Ysav'rai, the Voice of Reason says, "Because he is a titan."

Talan Ysav'rai, the Voice of Reason says, "We have never done anything to offend him, but he just does these things."

Castellan Aerys Tarsuhl asks, "Nayl?"

Talan Ysav'rai, the Voice of Reason says, "Therefore, is it not just that we should retaliate, if possible?"

Commander Elanorwen Pavok of the Air Force says, "He will get what's coming to him one of these days."

Motes of light around the caldera pulse brightly as a soft voice echoes, "Nayl's behaviour strikes Me as rather anti-Ambassadorial."

The corners of Elanorwen's mouth turn up as she grins mischievously.

Talan gives a trillingly melodic laugh.

You nod your head in agreement.

Motes of light around the caldera pulse brightly as a soft voice echoes, "Which is somewhat ironic."

Aerys erratically pulsates in hues of ruby, emerald and sapphire.

You say to Talan, "Yes, I would agree with that."

Talan Ysav'rai, the Voice of Reason says to you, "But you see, in that, where is the end, and where is the reason."

Commander Elanorwen Pavok of the Air Force says, "Ah, but I did not seek to explore justice so much as perhaps a slight extension on Sacrifice."

Talan Ysav'rai, the Voice of Reason says, "You cannot define an exact price."

Talan Ysav'rai, the Voice of Reason says, "You cannot define a point at which people are satisfied."

Talan Ysav'rai, the Voice of Reason says, "Death, and the suffering or dealing of it, does not conform to these rules."

Maerad Windwhisper, Student of Temporal Science spots the scroll on the floor and begins reading.

You say, "Does that make death itself any more complicated?"

(Market): Esca says, "Looking for genie curios. Ad 331. Willing to trade."

Motes of light around the caldera pulse brightly as a soft voice echoes, "The Fates love to make death complicated."

Talan Ysav'rai, the Voice of Reason says, "I think it is no more complicated than any other emotion."

Commander Elanorwen Pavok of the Air Force says, "As to the concept being Razielan... I am not aware of that entity's teachings... although she is beautiful in her own way, I guess... but a bit too... lovey-dovey for my liking, perhaps."

Elanorwen chews on her lip, deep in thought.

Talan Ysav'rai, the Voice of Reason says, "Which is to say, it is as complicated as every other emotion."

Midnight shadows coalesce around a new day, and Mother Night embraces the land in utter darkness.
It is now the 21st of Dioni, 374 years after the Coming of Estarra.

You say, "Certainly, there is a bloody litany all over the Realms' histories. No one can say what began who, so and so killed this person for X reason. But the point I was attempting to make is that we must make it our own duty to make our intentions clear."

(Market): Ssaliss says, "The Wyrden Blessings, with shops in Glomdoring, Hallifax and Magnagora.
Plenty of cheap refills. Ad 307!"

Talan Ysav'rai, the Voice of Reason says to you, "It just doesn't work that way, I'm afraid."

You say, "We aren't assassins in the night, nor should we alter the truth. It is imperative that we have logic on our side when we go to war, when we avenge one of our own."

(Market): Mistral says, "Basic figurine with 8500 esteem for sale!"

Holding his nose up, you say, "It can."

(Market): Chade says, "Seeking anyone with vernal bracers curio, gleaming saw or the excorable
damage enhancing curio."

Talan Ysav'rai, the Voice of Reason says, "Also, the culture of fighting in itself does not allow for it."

Castellan Aerys Tarsuhl says, "That is admirable, certainly. However, that strikes me as slightly naive, in that just because we do so doesn't mean that the 'other side' will act any differently because of it."

(Market): Chade says, "Don't want to buy them, just pay to test something quickly."

You say, "This isn't about the "other side", comrades! This is about maintaining our own dignity in the face of the world. How can we claim to be the Beacon if we falter in our understanding of the Truth?"

(Market): Rajhod says, "Need artisan."

Elanorwen purses her lips pensively, gazing off into the distance as she carefully gathers her thoughts.

Talan Ysav'rai, the Voice of Reason says, "And how can we be harmonious in the world at large, if we deliberately attempt to change a system that has its own kind of order already?"

Talan Ysav'rai, the Voice of Reason says, "That is a bit arrogant, and frankly, presumptuous."

Maerad Windwhisper, Student of Temporal Science finishes reading the scroll and stands straight again, wrapping her arms around her falcon doll. She listens in silence, though she occasionally worries at her bottom lip with her teeth.

Castellan Aerys Tarsuhl says, "The current system has flaws, and always has. Change has always been desired by one party or another, and that's not like to change."

Castellan Aerys Tarsuhl says to Talan, "I disagree with you, slightly, however."

You frown and say, "Presumptuous is calling knives in the dark and unexplainable raids "orderly"."

I find them to be quite effective, little shard.

Maligorn

The caldera flares with furious ire, the sparks heightening to untold heights before slowly receding.

Talan Ysav'rai, the Voice of Reason says to you, "I did not call it orderly, I said it had its own sort of order. Like any other game, it has its own rules that are learned by the players."

Motes of light around the caldera pulse brightly as a soft voice echoes, "You are bold, to step into My Fulcrux without introduction."

You blink.

Motes of light around the caldera pulse brightly as a soft voice echoes, "Have the decency to show yourself to Mine."

Aerys glances about, her body turning a hazy shade of grey.

Maerad Windwhisper, Student of Temporal Science unconsciously steps slightly behind Aerys for safety.

A flickering flame manifests in the center of the gathering, through which a deep voice echoes "I am nothing if not bold, Isune."

With the sound of hammer striking anvil, Yomoigu, the Pyresmith, appears amidst waves of shimmering heat.

Elanorwen curtseys gracefully before Yomoigu.

Talan chuckles long and heartily.

Aerys tilts her head while gazing at Yomoigu, her crystal body flickering curious shades of light green.

Maligorn wrings his paws compulsively.

Eyes flickering with a crimson flame, Yomoigu, the Pyresmith says, "But I will acquiesce to your wish... this time, at least."

l yomoigu
He is a radiant immortal and is a towering, solidly built figure whose ebon skin gleams like darkest obsidian. Two hollowed sockets serve as His eyes, flickering orange flames blazing within and illuminating the ground before Him. His mouth burns like a furnace, stray sparks occassionally escaping its confines to swirl about His body before quietly petering out. Molten gold veins run just below the skin and trace His thickly muscled form in esoteric, exceedingly intricate patterns that cover nearly the entirety of His body, errant flames arcing along their delicately etched lines. His left arm is conspicuously absent below the shoulder, the black skin surrounding the wound blistered and puckered. He is wearing sturdy, void-black trousers, sturdy boots of hide and meteoric iron and a heavy black obsidian gauntlet on His right hand.

You say, "The obsidian titan returns."

(Market): Kialkarkea says, "Transcendent Trademistress Tailor for hire. Dirigible Delivery optional."

The Quintessential Mandala of Resplendent Harmony suddenly begins to glow from its place over Elanorwen's chest until its many gemstones shine with a near-blinding incandescence before dimming to its normal brilliance, ripples of harmonic energy emanating for several moments after.

Motes of light around the caldera pulse brightly as a soft voice echoes, "How gracious of you, to be polite in the Fulcrux of another God. Truly, I am overcome by Your concern."

The lights about the caldera flash sharply.

Talan Ysav'rai, the Voice of Reason turns her head sharply to the side, shoulders shaking in silent laughter.

Motes of light around the caldera pulse brightly as a soft voice echoes, "You interrupt My affairs. Speak Your intent, or leave."

Talan suddenly loses focus in her eyes and shudders, then looks curiously refreshed.

A tight smile pulling at His lips, Yomoigu, the Pyresmith says, "I show as much concern as You are due, little cousin."

A tight smile pulling at His lips, Yomoigu, the Pyresmith says, "Why have You not called upon Me before now? I hardly knew that You had returned from the Void."

Motes of light around the caldera pulse brightly as a soft voice echoes, "I am not so little as You remember Me, Pyresmith, nor are You whom I recall before the Elder Wars."

Motes of light around the caldera pulse brightly as a soft voice echoes, "Much has changed. I can see now that with You, much more has changed than even I could have imagined."

Motes of gentle, clear light blink into life, gradually coalescing into the form of Isune.

l isune
She is a radiant immortal and carries Herself with effortless grace, suffusing the space around Her with sparkling motes that twinkle like morning sunlight. Gazing about with the preoccupied inconstancy of an artist, Her eyes are a crystalline blue-green flecked with gold and rust, though often their colours are lost to an inherent glow that flares and dims with the slightest shift of mood. Lustrous feathers frame Her face and cascade down Her back in a mane of snowy-white, whimsically threaded with wisps of daylight and strung with frosted crystal decorations. Her high, prominent cheekbones, faintly hawkish nose, and full lips lend Her an aristocratic air which manages to complement rather than contrast Her sense of wispy, gossamer delicacy; Her form is slender, even fragile in build and appearance, and Her skin is fair to the point of translucence. Seemingly unconnected to Her, ephemeral and almost liquid wings which shimmer over with rainbows of colour like oil on water slowly sweep to and fro. Faint sparks of light drift within and about those wings in sporadic, yet intricate patterns, silently dancing around Her. She is wearing a crystal-beaded cloak of periwinkle and violet velvet, a snowflake preserved inside a gem of ice, a gown of gossamer clouds and silken starlight, a mist-emblazoned ring of smoky quartz, a crystalline rose of pure diamond, a bracelet of soothing twilight and a Crown of the Sun-in-Glory.

Her eyes flickering with cold light, Isune, the Aesthete says to Yomoigu, "Greetings, then. Old friend."

Quietly, Maerad folds her hands and bows her head, a peaceful smile upon her lips.

Eyes flickering with purple flames, Yomoigu, the Pyresmith says, "No...You are right. There is something different about You, little cousin. Something... not of the Way."

Talan stares implacably at Yomoigu.

You glance askance.

With bored affectation, Isune, the Aesthete says, "The Way? You speak as Mysrai does, with His-and-Her will."

The last vestiges of midnight shadows flee as Mother Night hides herself from the luminous arrival of her shining mate as he chases her across the bowl of the sky.

Isune waves Her hand dismissively.

Isune, the Aesthete says to Yomoigu, "Is this to be why I am honoured with Your company?"

Isune, the Aesthete crosses Her arms in quiet displeasure, the colours of Her wings shifting through sunset hues of darkest violet and searing scarlet.

Eyes flickering with violet flames, Yomoigu, the Pyresmith says, "No, you are right. One such as You would not know of it, despite Our conversations. It would involve reaching beyond the walls of modesty which You have constructed for Yourself."

Scoffing as She waves about a hand, Isune, the Aesthete says, "More pretty, vague words."


Talan raises an eyebrow questioningly.


Yomoigu, the Pyresmith laughs deeply, spirals of Flame swirling about His body.

Her voice a low hiss, Isune, the Aesthete says, "Let Us ignore this charade. You come here to inspect Me, as a collector probes an insect. You come to gloat at what I have become, for I know that Mysrai has told You of My strife in the First World."

Still smiling widely, though it has begun to appear forced, Yomoigu, the Pyresmith says, "The Thousandfold has told me little of You, little cousin, only that I would like Your new outlook."

Smile fading completely, Yomoigu, the Pyresmith says, "How does it feel, Isune?"

Wildly, the flames about the caldera churn in angry hymn, blistering in their heat as they stand as a backdrop to the Goddess's fury.

Smile fading completely, Yomoigu, the Pyresmith says, "You have become what You feared I was."

Bitterly, Isune, the Aesthete says, "You know better than most."

Her voice lowering, though firm, Isune, the Aesthete says, "I did not choose to create the Wyrd, Yomoigu."

Beautiful wings of ice spring up from Elanorwen's shoulder blades, expanding wider than any mortal's could, elegant yet cold. Crackling with the motion, they begin to fall apart, dissipating into the air as mist.

Eyes flaring with crimson flames, Yomoigu, the Pyresmith says, "Yet still it has been created. Does it burn now, Your Betrayal? Your Abandonment?"

Talan stares coldly at Yomoigu.

Aerys's crystalline form shifts to a cool sky-blue colour as she gazes in the direction of Yomoigu.

Yomoigu, the Pyresmith says, "Do You finally see?"

Snapping, Isune, the Aesthete says to Yomoigu, "How was I to know what Your Elixir would wrought? How were any of Us to know? Do You begrudge Me the right to fear, as the others did?"

You gulp nervously.

Maerad Windwhisper, Student of Temporal Science's brow dips in concern, and she wraps her arms tighter around her doll. Her eyes dart worriedly to Isune.

Pacing the Fulcrux, Isune, the Aesthete says, "I knew nothing of Your covert actions! How was I to know if You stood alongside those who... Who continued such abominable..." She shakes Her head. "I was young."

Isune, the Aesthete says to Yomoigu, "No one could be trusted, then."

Crimson flames fading to orange, Yomoigu, the Pyresmith says, "You could have trust Me, little cousin."

Sunlight billows across the realm, revealing the full glory of the majestic sun's luminous presence as he climbs higher into the sky.

Resolutely, Yomoigu, the Pyresmith says, "But You did not."

Isune, the Aesthete says, "I was not the only one who feared You."

Elanorwen purses her lips, deep in thought.

Exhaling, as if a great burden suddenly weighs upon Her shoulders, Isune, the Aesthete says, "I would have trusted You, now. Back then, how could I have known?"

Tiredly, Yomoigu, the Pyresmith says, "How did the Thousandfold know? How did the Lady of the Ice Plains know? Neither knew Me so well as you did."

All emotion drained from Her voice, Isune, the Aesthete says, "I thought I knew Drocilla, too."

Eyes flaring crimson once more, Yomoigu, the Pyresmith says, "You say that you would trust Me now? After You have tasted betrayal? After You were certain? Trust does not work that way, Lady Aesthete, and I have dwelt long on Your lack of Faith."

Weary, Isune, the Aesthete says to Yomoigu, "Very well, then. Do as You came to do. Revel in this, the change in My fortunes, the equalizer between You and I."

Talan narrows her eyes to thin slits.

Elanorwen ponders for a moment and says "Hrm..."

Turning away with a swish of Her gown, Isune, the Aesthete says, "And leave Me."

For a long moment Aerys stops as though deep in thought.

Absentmindedly rubbing His left shoulder, Yomoigu, the Pyresmith says, "I came to see what You have become. And I came to see if You could, in fact, be forgiven. But Your penitence comes too late, and I have drunk deeply of Wrath. We will never again be equal, little cousin, and You shall not have My Forgiveness."

Softly, Isune, the Aesthete says, "It is just as well. I never asked for it."

Eyes glazed, Isune, the Aesthete says to Yomoigu, "So You and I are to be enemies, I suppose. If that is Your wish."

The sun reaches the zenith of the firmament, pausing in his quest to allow the land to bask in his shining golden rays.

Aerys creases her brow in a frown.

As He turns away, Yomoigu, the Pyresmith says, "You should have perished in the Void, Lady Isune. It would have been a fitting end for one whose heart is so black."

Yomoigu, the Pyresmith dissolves into countless tendrils of flickering flame.

Aerys raises an eyebrow questioningly.

Talan Ysav'rai, the Voice of Reason whispers to Elanorwen, "You see what I mean about the inability to be kind?"

Aerys clenches her fists as she angrily flickers a ruby red.

"Hmph!" Elanorwen snorts.

Talan Ysav'rai, the Voice of Reason says to Isune, "Are you alright, my Lady?"

With a cold, hollow laugh, Isune, the Aesthete says, "Yes. Would that I had perished, and the entirety of the Basin of Life with Me."

Talan scowls miserably.

Elanorwen grunts noncommitally.

Isune, the Aesthete says, "He has had an eternity to despise what I am."

You purse your lips pensively, gazing off into the distance as you carefully gather your thoughts.

Isune, the Aesthete says, "I intend to spend My life on more productive means that such pettiness."

Talan Ysav'rai, the Voice of Reason says to Isune, "Your old friend has not yet learned this lesson."

Talan Ysav'rai, the Voice of Reason says, "And is not likely to learn it surrounded by those of Gaudiguch. I am sorry for your loss."

Thoughtfully, Commander Elanorwen Pavok of the Air Force says, "One could also say that the Lady Viravain trusted the Forbidden back in the day, too... when the seal of nature was used in an attempt to restore Gloriana."

Quietly, you say, "He said He had drank deeply of Wrath, yes."

Glancing away, Her hands shaking visibly, Isune, the Aesthete says, "If you will excuse Me... I believe I shall... retire to the spires. Perhaps Zvoltz needs My assistance, I am not quite..." She shakes Her head. "Even this is ephemeral. Even this will become bearable in time."

Isune's form shatters into a flock of colourful birds, their tiny forms tracing circles in the air before darting away.

Marcella

isune and yomoigu are so awesome this is awesome thank you maligorn

Zouviqil

I need to meet Yomoigu IG eventually. So awesome, that dynamic.

Tacita

That exchange was absolutely amazing to watch, even if we were all standing there going halp I have no idea how to be supportive, maybe we should all just glare at Him.

I have an ensuing discussion with Volucer that I can post if people want (I may post it anyway because everyone deserves to bathe in the awesome that is Volucer).

Maligorn

Tacita said:

That exchange was absolutely amazing to watch, even if we were all standing there going halp I have no idea how to be supportive, maybe we should all just glare at Him.

I have an ensuing discussion with Volucer that I can post if people want (I may post it anyway because everyone deserves to bathe in the awesome that is Volucer).

I am Volucer's #1 fan, please please post it.

Tacita

Okay but only because everyone in the Volucer Fan Club is his number 1 fan. If only one person got to be number 1 we'd spend so much time arguing about it that we wouldn't get to appreciate his awesome.

--

You lean on Volucer seeking consolation.

Volucer chirps happily.

Softly, you say to Volucer, "Have you ever felt like the world is so much bigger than you that you might drown in it?"

Volucer tilts his head curiously at you.

Volucer says, "What's wrong?"

You have emoted: Maerad worries at her bottom lip, eyes glassy.

Volucer inches bashfully over to you and nuzzles you tenderly.

Hesitantly, you say to Volucer, "Lord Yomoigu came to the Lady's fulcrux. He...He's horrible."

Volucer glances askance.

Volucer says, "Oh, Him. I've never met Him but He smells awful."Volucer says, "Whenever He manifests it smells like smoke, and ash, and...gross things."

Volucer shudders violently.

You have emoted: Maerad shivers in sympathetic agreement.

Volucer says, "He smells like burnt feet."

Volucer tenses his talons and draws himself up slightly.

Concerned, Volucer says to you, "But are you hurt?"

You say to Volucer, "No, no, I'm not. Everyone got so angry, but I was just scared." Looking suddenly worried, she continues in a rush of breath, "Am I a terrible person for not being angry that He said such horrible things to Her? I couldn't think of anything except how scared I was for Her, but everyone else..."

You have emoted: Maerad trails off and shuffles on the spot, her movements becoming increasingly clumsy as she loses her composure.

Volucer flutters his wings, dislodging loose feathers which drift to the ground.

Volucer says to you, "Being angry doesn't always solve things. Sounds like He was angry."

Nodding at himself, Volucer says, "Anyway, your feathers are too well-preened to be a terrible person. This is a fact."

You say to Volucer, "He was. And He made everyone else angry. Before that, they were all talking about horrible things like death and war. I didn't want to say anything because they'd all laugh at me for being naive." After a moment, she laughs softly at the compliment, some of the colour returning to her eyes. "Thank you."

Volucer ponders the situation.

Volucer says to you, "Well, if everyone liked war, a lot more mortals would be falcon food, and that would make a lot of falcons have stomachaches."

Volucer says, "So you're kind of doing us a favour."

You have emoted: Maerad erupts into happy giggles, clutching her hands to her mouth in surprise at the outburst.

Volucer nods his head sagely.

You smile and say to Volucer, "Oh, I am very happy to help make sure you don't have a stomach ache! I am glad that someone understands."

Volucer exclaims to you, "I am a very smart falcon, you know!"

You have emoted: Maerad dabs at her eyes with the sleeve of her gown, blushing prettily as she sheds the last of her worried shakes.

Volucer beams broadly.

You say to Volucer, "You are the smartest of all falcons, and my very favourite. But you should not tell the others that, as they shall be ever so jealous."

Volucer nods his head sagely.

You have emoted: Maerad taps her finger against her nose, before grinning shyly.

Volucer says, "The Lady will be fine. She is strong, if kind of strange and crazy and other things..." He pauses. "Where was I going with this."

Volucer exclaims, "Oh!"

Volucer says, "Yeah. She will be okay. She's with Mister Lightning Bolts right now and He tends to calm Her down."

You say to Volucer, "I'm glad. I think He can understand her pain better than any of us possibly could. But you must promise to tell us if there is every anything we can do." Lowering her voice, she adds knowingly, "I worry that sometimes She doesn't ask us for help because She doesn't want to be a bother."

Brow furrowed, Volucer says, "Yeah... She's so stubborn sometimes."

You nod your head sagely.

Volucer flutters his wings, dislodging loose feathers which drift to the ground.

Volucer says, "I mean, I could tell the pigeons to go squat in His Fulcrux."

Volucer exclaims, "I'm a fearsome captain of an airforce, you know!"

You giggle happily.

Knowingly, Volucer says, "I have recruited many a pigeon into my service."

You say to Volucer, "I think they would make the most excellent spies. They must hear all of the gossip!"

Volucer exclaims, "It's a very dangerous line of work though. People shoot them for absolutely no reason!"

You give a horrified gasp.

You say to Volucer, "I think your pigeons are very brave. You should be very proud of them."

Volucer tenses his talons and draws himself up slightly.

Volucer beams broadly.

Volucer says, "Well, y'know, they do get training from the best."

You say to Volucer, "Oh, absolutely. It is only a pity that the Fates did not see fit to make them falcons themselves."

Volucer puffs himself up proudly.

You hug Volucer compassionately.

Volucer chirps happily.

Volucer says to you, "Do you feel better?"

You say to Volucer, "I do. Thank you, Volucer. I should be ever so lost without you as my friend. You always know how to cheer me up!"

Volucer exclaims, "Aw shucks!"

You giggle happily.

Volucer says, "We should have a secret friend code thing. The pigeon flies at twilight. No, no! The falcon eats at breakfast. Or, um..."

Volucer ponders the situation.

You ponder for a moment and say "Hrm..."

Volucer says, "You know what, never mind. I'll save codes for pigeons. I think we'll be okay just talking."

You smile broadly and say to Volucer, "I shall be sure to tell people that pigeons are noble creatures, whenever they say horrible things about them. Even if they are not terribly talkative."

Volucer says, "It's okay. Between you and me, a falcon is worth like, thirty pigeons. They're dispensable."

Volucer winks really obviously.

You have emoted: Maerad briefly scowls in displeasure, but her expression quickly brightens into a grin of understanding.

Volucer chirps happily.

You say to Volucer, "I should go back to working on my exam revision, now that I'm feeling better. Otherwise I shall never become a doctor of medicine at this rate!"

Your mouth turns up as your face breaks into a smile.

You say to Volucer, "I shall see you again very soon."

You fan your wings excitedly at Volucer, whipping up a slight breeze.

Volucer chirps happily.

You raise your hand to your mouth and titter girlishly.

Volucer bobs his head slightly.

Volucer exclaims, "Be safe and things!"