A Little Literary Visit

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Log Info

  • Title: A Little Literary Visit
  • Emitter: Ravenstongue
  • Place: A14 - Quill's Repose, City Library
  • Summary: Ravenstongue and Telamon are at the city library on account of Ravenstongue's feelings of frustration and inadequacy at not being regarded as what she feels to be "Sildanyari enough" by the Feypool incident employer. Skielstregar appears, albeit dressed down due to recovering from the Feypool incident, and the trio (plus Pothy) discuss the incident a little. The conversation turns to Skielstregar's love triangle issues, and the half-elf couple give what advice they can to Skielstregar. Pothy eventually demands dinner and the half-elves leave just as Skielstregar knocks over some books. Uh-oh!

-=--=--=--=--=--=--<* A14: Quill's Repose, City Library *>=--=--=--=--=--=--=-

A large hallway, circular in design, is what lies beyond the large doors that let visitors in to the public library. Two guards stand in these doors at all times, employees of the city Watch, hired by the library for protection and to prevent theft of books. The head librarian is more of the same--a retired Watch member, herself: Lady Octagna is a great oruch whose lined face bears with it, as well, the scars of old battle. These days, she battles over books and the impudence of Society, Engineering, and Temple students alike, who spend long hours toiling within the Library's walls and basement.

A sign above proclaims the loan of books to be illegal, and that books may not travel further than the doors. Loud noises are hushed by the Lady Octagna, whose grand stature is said to be second to none. Her movements are rarely heard, though they are often seen, marking her quite agile in her elderly age. Rumors, too, place her as a curmudgeon'd ally of Madame Gelfure, the two of them going back years, with a tradition of lunches or the occasional breakfast.

The hall has marble floors, and two staircases lead upwards, one to the left and another to the right. Bright blue carpets cover the steps to lend to the quiet atmosphere of the great library. Straight ahead of the entryway, a tall archway leads into the main library, with study tables between rows and rows of books. The upper levels contain the city records to the left, and the right is a closed off area for library staff.

The symbols of Navos, the Scribe, may be seen in the markings of columns, in the relief of marble. Marble is the prevalent building material, giving the rooms a regal, official and solemn feeling. A few benches line the walls of the circular hall, and a desk sits to the right of the entrance, a secretary always attending it to help guests, even late into the night. The occasional Seer or Temperance may also be seen, offering advisement and wisdom within the great halls.

-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=- Dramatis Personae =--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-
Ravenstongue 5'0"     99 Lb      Half-Elf       Female  Short half-elf girl with violet eyes and black hair.
Skielstregar 7'2"     330 Lb     Sith-Makar     Male    A tarnished bronze scale with fangs and empty eyes.  
Telamon      5'6"     140 Lb     Half-Elf       Male    A platinum-blond half-sil man with dancing dark eyes   

There's no better place to seek refuge from the cold, if one isn't interested in a pint to drink or a bite to eat, than a library. Only a momentary draft of the icy northwest wind comes in from time to time in the library when the front doors open, and the chill is banished quickly.

Off in a section with many books on elven history, Ravenstongue flips through a large tome while Pothy looks on, seeming to be reading with her. Eventually she sighs and puts the tome back on the shelf. "Pothy, you know what? They can go to hell."

"Go to hell," Pothy mimics, agreeing with her. He even nods to the notion.

"I don't need to prove myself to anyone. I can point to my fey ancestor and I bet that woman couldn't do that. So I don't need to be here studying elf history like I have to take a test," Ravenstongue says.

...But her eyes linger over to the books again and she sighs, putting her hand on another one to draw it out of the shelf.

"I thought I warned you about that," Telamon comments sardonically as he comes around the corner. "There's a reason Mythwood might be technically bound to Llyranost, but they walk their own trail." His face looks slightly weary, and he's toting two more books on elven history. "And that's why mother always joked that being an arrogant ass was such a popular trait, every thinking being is vulnerable to it."

Ravenstongue huffs quietly. "To think I spent my whole childhood hoping my elf father would come whisk me away to give me a father's love and to reunite me with the long-lost homeland of my birth," she says. Her hand lingers a moment longer on the spine of the book, then it falls away.

"Sorry. I don't mean to rope you into this, Tel, just... Well, I'm disappointed. And, well, it reopened some old wounds for me, being told I'm 'not sildanyar'." Ravenstongue walks closer to him and sighs. "Reading's always gotten me through things like this, so it was the first thing I could think of."

Telamon puts his arm around Raven's shoulders, as he sets the other two books back on the shelf. "Didn't quite measure up to expectations, did it?" he says sympathetically. "'Lana, people like that, the best thing you can do is just ignore them or walk away. They're so caught up in their idea of 'propriety' or 'purity' that unless you fit into their ideals like a key with a lock, you'll never measure up." He hugs Raven close to him. "Just be yourself, instead."

There's a figure that could certainly reach the top shelves if asked nicely. Though it's uncertain if he could bring his arm up to sigh a height were the large bandage peeking out from his shirt anything to go by.

A towering, half silver, half tarnished bronze-scale makari is eyeing a row of books. He's dressed down considerably, no armor, no weapons save for a dagger on a belt. He's just in a brown tunic and pants with a silver bangle on his tail.

The conversation wafts through the aisles, and a fanged visage peeks around the corner. "... isss... everything alright...?" a low, rumbling voice hisses.

Ravenstongue smiles a little at Telamon and kisses him on the cheek, just a little peck. "You're right, of course--you are right very often, I think. It's just... Well, you know how it is."

Then Skielstregar comes around the corner. Ravenstongue's eyes widen as she sees the bandage poking out from his shirt. "Everything alright," Pothy says in greeting to Skielstregar, mimicking the sith-makar's voice. He wags his tail feathers up and down, apparently happy to see him. Skielstregar might be scary to other people, but to Pothy, he's the same as everyone else... another potential snack dispenser.

"I should be asking you that!" Ravenstongue says. "You took a big hit back there. I was just... ranting--maybe venting is a better word--about our employer, but that's really nothing compared to you hitting the ground."

Telamon shrugs and smiles at Raven. "I have my moments." He touches her on the cheek in return, before turning his gaze to Skiel who just came around the corner.

"At least you're still walking around," Tel notes, before offering his hand to Skiel in greeting. "That was very tense for a bit. I've read of the mogareg but I've never seen them before -- they're definitely not just 'tainted' oruch."

Skielstregar steps out from the little corner, him carefully moving one foot in front of the other as to not bump his wide gait into any of the bookshelves. With him dressed down so much, it's clear that his arms and neck are practically scattering light from being wreathed in silver.

He waves off that notion, though winces some. "Thisss one is well. They have had worssse hitss before," he mentions, brushing at his chest. "What about our employer? They ssseemed on the up and up."

He spies the hand offered, and he moves to shake it. Very. Very. Carefully. Those too-long talons were like having kitchen knives attached to the ends of his fingers. "Yesss... thisss one wasssn't ssssure. They were a bit different than what thisss one knowsss from the oruch he wasss with."

"Well, our employer, the llyranesi lady, said there were no Sildanyari in our group, so to simply speak in the common tongue--despite the fact that Telamon and I are both half-sil. We were standing right there. Unfortunately, it's a common attitude with both sildanyari and humans to reject us as being fully part of them." Ravenstongue rolls her eyes.

"Shiny!" Pothy says, interjecting his thoughts on Skielstregar's pretty scales.

This gets Ravenstongue's attention, and she peers at Skielstregar's scales. "Huh, yeah, they are pretty shiny today. You could make mirrors out of them, actually." She even smiles a little. Getting her off the subject of injustice against half-elves improves her mood significantly, it seems.

Telamon shakes Skiel's hand carefully as well, being well aware of those claws. But still, anything worth doing isn't easy. "They probably were on the up-and-up. That doesn't stop a person from being contemptible." His lips quirk in a wry grin. "I once heard that diplomacy is the art of saying 'nice dragon' -- until you can find a big enough rock. Sometimes, all you can do is keep smiling until you find that proverbial rock -- or a literal one."

He squares his shoulders. "In any case... where IS that shine from, Skiel? It looks good -- is that some kind of cosmetic, or a magical effect? And is it only for the makari, or could anyone use it?"

Skielstregar tilts his head to the side at Ravenstongue's explanation. "... sssee... that isss... rather strange. And sssubtle. Thisss one didn't know about all of that. Or the fact you both are part sssildanyari. And, ah, thisss one prefers diplomacy. They do not enjoy resssorting to anger and violence." Considering his last display, he's used to resorting to the latter.

He rubs his neck, then looks down at a silver wreathed arm. "Yesss, they are... rather ssshiny. Thisss one likesss it."

He's staring at the ground. Probably blushing, if he could. "Uh... thisss one... doesss not know? Metal ssscaled kin tend to be a little shiny. But thisss one is just... very very sssshiny. Thisss one usssed to be covered in thisss," he gestures to his tarnished bronze scales. They are flaking, loose, about to fall off. In fact... side by side to the new scales, those weren't bronze. It was silver. A really, really, really tarnished silver. "Thisss one just ssstarted growing new onesss out of the blue."

"I guess it's hard to tell if you don't look critically at us softskins too often," Ravenstongue concedes, although she's clearly a little amused. She draws her braid back to make her pointy ears more prominent. "See? Half-sil. Although pointy ears aren't always a reliable indicator of that--other people have them, too."

"Shiny, shiny, shiny," Pothy says, almost in a sing-song manner. He flaps from Ravenstongue's shoulder to Skielstregar's good shoulder, where he nuzzles against the shiny scales on Skielstregar's neck. The corvid instinct is strong at this very moment.

Ravenstongue grins at Telamon. "Don't tell me you want to be shiny too with a question like that."

Telamon spreads his hands. "I was wondering how many womenfolk in Alexandria would buy something like that for accents. Especially around the eyes. But getting that metallic hue is... difficult. You don't want to accidentally poison people." He smiles teasingly at Raven. "You'd look good with something like that, setting off your hair and eyes."

Tel's gaze shifts back to Skiel, thoughtful. "Curious. I assume you've spoken to the priests about it? I'm afraid I'm not terribly familiar with your talents beyond 'hit bad guys with a polearm' and 'get scarier'."

Skiel glances to the features on Ravenstongue before giving a light nod. "Thisss one ssseesss." Now there was a bird on his shoulder, the tall man going still as to not jostle the bird or hit anything. He softly chuckles a rumble. "Thisss one would give you a shiny scale, Pothy, but they need to ssstay on thisss one for the time being."

He looks between the two, him raising a brow. "Can ussse a passste with shavingssss of the metal in it to give a sssimilar effect. Won't be asss shiny, but it will ssstill sparkle."

Feeling like he was towering over the two half-sil, the large makari kneels down on both legs before sitting on his feet. His height bought low, yet he was still eye level with them. He flinches in a freeze as his tail knocks against a shelf. Fixing that, he gives a small shrug. "Thisss one hasss not ssspoken with the ssshamansss about it, no. But... in the grand ssscheme of thingsss, isss it worth to look a gift horssse in the mouth? Thisss one hasss spent many yearssss feeling like they were wearing and looking like rotting flesh amongssst their kin, and now they are not."

At the mention of talents, he raises a hand and pinches his fingers. "... thisss one's affliction hass granted them a liiiiiiiiiiiiiittle magic." He seems a bit proud of that.

Ravenstongue flushes a little at at the teasing. "Really?" she asks. "I'm not one for makeup or cosmetic magic, but maybe I could try it, if I ever come across something like it, to see if I like it."

She looks back to Pothy on Skielstregar's shoulder and smiles. "I think he just likes being near it. He used to steal food when I first got him, but he never stole shiny things unless they looked like they really didn't belong to anyone."

Ravenstongue's eyes light up with curiosity when Skielstregar talks about magic. "Wow, really? What sort of magic?" Other than, well, bashing in heads and going into bloodlusts.

Telamon hmms. "Worth looking into, perhaps." He watches Skiel slowly sit down, but doesn't really react to the thud of the tail on the bookshelf; those shelves can take a few knocks. "Hmmm... I know that sorcerous bloodlines can have an effect on a person's appearance somewhat. Are you a sorcerer perchance?" He raises an eyebrow. He's not teasing the makari, but seems intrigued by the notion of such a powerful warrior developing a magical talent.

Skiel bobs his head carefully, him reaching up to try and resituate Pothy on a better perch: one of his horns. "Thisss one seesss."

He looks to the ground for a moment. "Ah... thisss... one doesssn't like doing that. It feelsss wrong to do, but cannot deny it givesss thisss one great ssstrength."

A glance to Telamon, and he shrugs his good shoulder. "No. Well, mayhapsss. Thisss one was.... um. To ssspeak plainly, hasss died before. And wasss maybe brought back by sssome nefarious necromancy. At leassst, that'sss what the ssshamansss say and how it feelsss. All of that black gunk you sssee isss bleed off from necromantic power. And to anssswer your quessstion, Shaman Ravenssstognue..."

He sits up a bit straighter. "Thisss one knowsss two kindsss of magic. They can make themssselvesss as big as thossse oruch we fought. And can make themssselvesss run very, very fassst. This one can even make other people large too." He grins, minding his wicked teeth as to not make an unsettling expresion.

Pothy looks incredibly intrigued, now atop one of Skielstregar's horns. "Make me big!" he says, in a dwarven accent.

Ravenstongue blinks at Pothy's demand. "Oh no. Nooo no no no. No big Pothy. Gods know that you don't need to be an even bigger ham than you already are."

"Make me big!" Pothy says again, raising his voice.

Ravenstongue shushes him. "We're in a library, silly bird." She looks back at Skielstregar and Telamon and sighs. "He's going to be stuck on that idea until I find something for him to eat. I just know it. He's already... Well, he's already the size of a typical raven, which is pretty big, all things considered, so I don't want to think about what he'd be like if he's any bigger."

Pelka-sized Pothy? Dragon-sized Pothy? The Pothybilities are endless. His blue eyes glisten in the light of the library as he dreams... But nobody could possibly know. Pothy is alone in his daydreams.

Telamon chuckles. "I think I'll pass on being bigger. It might have its advantages but sometimes, being a smaller target is a good thing." He looks sympathetically to Skiel. "Those who pass to the Halls of Waiting and back... sometimes have a rough time of it. Though I admit my knowledge is purely academic, not experience -- and I'm not looking for any either."

He can't help but snicker at the prospect of Pothy being... bigger. "Pothy, you eat enough as is. Plus, if you're too big you can't ride on 'Lana's shoulder, and it'll be harder for her to give you scritches and petting."

Skielstregar chuckles. A sound that is felt more than heard as it rumbles deep in his chest. A hand reaches up to carefully pat the bird on the side with a mitt almost as large as the bird. "There there, thisss one cannot. It only worksss on people. Thisss one hasss tesssted it."

The a-Pothy-lypse is forestalled for the time being.

The silver/bronze scale smiles warmly. "Thisss one enjoysss being bigger! It'sss fun! You are twice asss tall! Thisss one can carry whole trees!"

"Shhh!" comes from across the library. Skiel ducks his head, he was getting a bit excited. Which, gets dampened a bit as he speaks softer. "Ah... it... wasss a rough time, to be honessst. Thisss one had to spend a couple of yearsss having to piece their mind back together after the experience. Then an oruch tribe picked thisss one up to help him more."

Pothy looks positively saddened by this revelation. There will be no big Pothy. Maybe never. He hangs his head in sorrow.

Ravenstongue sighs a little in mock-sympathy for Pothy, but her attention resumes for Skielstregar's story. She frowns and nods a little. "I can imagine how difficult it was--both for you and for your sister. My mom is... Well, I'm certain she's gone for real, but if she was reanimated..."

She shakes her head and leans into Telamon. Just the idea is upsetting.

Telamon puts his arms around Raven -- it's as natural as breathing these days. "The oruch tribes and clans seem to have a more... what is the best word... primal view on magic. Sure, they do love their evocations, but magic that strengthens a warrior, speeds his arm? They are all about that." He sighs. "Which is why it's such a tragedy when one falls to temptation from the dark gods."

Skielstregar bows his head some. "... Sseyardu wasss not aware of thiss. We were ssseperated in our youth. And only reunited recently. Thisss one's return had fussed with their memoriesss, ssso it isss hard to recall thingsss about her."

He shifts a bit to be cross legged, and his pulls his large tail around to hold it to his chest like a muscle pillow. "Yesss. They have such a view. Ancessstors and the world fueling them. They taught thisss one how to keep a leasssh on their anger when thisss one is, uh, transsformed. They are good folk. Thisss one ressspectsss them, and is equally sssaddened to hear sssuch a thing happened to them. Even moressso when thisss one had to be the one to wield the blade."

He watches Ravenstongue try to dissuade the idea, and he shakes his head slowly. Not pressing it.

"Well, I, for one, am grateful to the oruch girl who did not marry my Tel," Ravenstongue says, cracking a grin to dispel the dour mood she'd created only moments prior. "Otherwise we'd be in a much more awkward position right now, right, my love?"

She plants a kiss on Telamon's cheek. Pothy whistles, which earns him an eye-roll from Ravenstongue. "Oh, shush, Pothy. Come down here and I'll give you a kiss, too."

Well, Pothy isn't ignoring that. He flaps back to Ravenstongue's free shoulder and she gives him a little kiss on his fluffy little head, as promised. "Wow!" he says in Ravenstongue's voice.

Telamon chuckles at Raven's merry remark, and explains to Skiel. "There was a time a few years back when I was with my father, doing diplomatic work for the Mythwood. We were arranging for safe passage through an oruch clan's holdings, and one of his daughters took a bit of a shine to me." He actually blushes a bit. "She was, well, IS, a nice girl, but it's probably for the best it didn't go too far." He squeezes Raven around the waist. "But through the wild paths it brought me here, so I can't complain too much."

Skielstregar looks to Ravenstongue as she shares that tidbit, and his head swivels over to Telamon. Dead silver eyes lookin him up, down, then he nods to himself. "Good you did not. It isss hard to mend ssshattered pelvisssesss."

He chuckles, either from his joke or the albino raven, the tip of his tail doing a little flick-flick against his Dragonfather amulet. "It isss well that you two found sssomeone," he mentions, him smiling some, but it goes a touch weak as he glances aside a smidge.

Ravenstongue turns a shade of bright red at the implication and perhaps some vivid mental imagery to boot. "Skiel!" she says, a hand going over her mouth as she tries to contain the laughter that follows to a library-appropriate level.

It takes a moment for her to recover, but she eventually does, although still blushing. "I'm happy with him, and I'm certain he's happy with me. Grandfather is certainly pleased with the whole arrangement, too, considering he brought us together."

Telamon opens his mouth, then firmly puts his hand over it to stifle whatever was about to come up. After a moment, he clears his throat, and replies, "Well. Yes. Anyways. I'm happy with 'Lana here. Although her Grandfather is almost infuriatingly smug about the whole thing. I would be annoyed if I wasn't so pleased with the state of affairs." He looks gently at Skiel. "The gods bring us together in time. That includes you as well, my friend."

Skiel seem very pleased at his jab, him giving a closed eye, coy smile as his tail flicks faster. "Heehehe..." the massive man giggles.

His amusement is stymied for a beat. "Ah, well... on that front... thisss one jussst hass to, well, put themssselvesss out there. There are already sssome folk wissshing to be with thisss one."

His gaze lowers. "... he jussst doesst not want hisss choice to hurt the other isss all..."

Ravenstongue blinks at Skielstregar's last words, and then a grin creeps across her face. "Skiel! Are you in a love triangle? Maybe Tel and I can help and give advice. What's the situation?" she asks, perhaps a little too enthused about the situation. "You don't have to name any names, but talking about things helps. After all, I didn't know I was in love with Tel until he told me my feelings sounded like love."

Telamon's eyebrows rise as well at Skiel's confession. "It's never easy when your heart is pulled in two different ways," he notes. He smiles at Raven a bit, "I think we both knew but we weren't sure how to put it into words, dearest. And there's... a vulnerability there. Lowering your shield and letting someone know can be daunting." Turning his eyes back to Skiel, he does offer, "But it might not hurt to have a... I won't say disinterested, but perhaps a detached third party talk to you about it."

Skiel ducks his head a bit, him looking to the floor and bobbing his head slowly after a spell. "... yesss... Ssshaman Ravenssstognue. They are in a triangle."

He looks between the two, a heavy sigh leaving the man. A plume of frozen air filling the space in front of him. "Very well. Thisss one hasss gotten outsside help before, and it went... moderately well. Um, it isss... difficult to explain without revealing identities, but they will try their bessst."

The scaled man takes a breath. "Thisss one... hasss sssome feelingsss for both. Thiss one has been afraid of their unruly ssside coming up. Um, it getsss worssse around kin. Both are aware of thisss and have accepted thisss one for who and what they are."

He closes his eyes, and holds up one hand. "One isss kind and playful. Full of energy. And wanting to help root out the isssuess with thisss one's affliction. They are a very sssmall softskin."

The other hand raises. "The other isss of thisss one's kin. They are stoic and understanding, and with their own personal issues, they still have the ssstrength to help this one. They are an excellent hunter, and have helped thisss one for many, many moonsss." He eyes Ravenstongue at this one, shifting a bit on his floor seat.

"Huh." Ravenstongue looks thoughtful as she considers the situation as described to her by Skielstregar. Pothy even seems to mimic her expression, as both tilt their heads slightly to one side.

"It sounds like you care for them both a great deal. But I suppose if you had to come down to a choice, you should choose based on how compatible their personality is with yours and what your needs--and theirs--are. If you need the cheerfulness, you might come to resent the stoic one if you choose them, for instance."

Pothy nods to Ravenstongue's advice, like Pothy has suddenly become a love guru. Well, maybe he is--if one's love is for snacks.

Telamon nods. "While it's... difficult without knowing who the principals are, it's best to make sure they're nameless for now. As 'Lana notes, you need the one who will sustain you the most in the long run. It doesn't mean you cast the other out of your life, though... simply that one will be your partner in the eyes of the gods." His hand seems to almost reflexively slip into Raven's, as he continues, "Affairs of the heart and soul are never easy. They can seem easy, in retrospect, but... they are complex and fraught with surprising intricacies. My sole advice would be to be honest. To them, and to yourself."

Skielstregar listens attentively. Him still, almost unnervingly so like a corpse. "... thisss one hass plenty of cheer in him, it jussst... ah, takesss sssome confidence is all..." he mumble rumbles.

He runs a hand over the bronze side of his face, some scales flaking off turning to dust. "... thisss hasss been nothing but honessst with the two of them. They are aware of thisss... dynamic."

Skiel's eyes lid halfway. "... the long run..." He's pensive.

"Well, it's good that they know about the situation," Ravenstongue says. "It would be highly unpleasant if they didn't. It speaks to your moral character, Skiel. You're a good guy."

Another idea seems to occur to her. "Have you talked to your sister about this yet? I'm sure Seyardu might have some input, too. I don't know from experience, but they say siblings know who's best for their siblings in the end. Maybe she could pick one for you!" She grins a little. It's mostly a joke, but there's some actual advice in there, too.

Meanwhile, she squeezes Telamon's hand as it folds into hers. Like Telamon putting his arm around her, this is reflexive as well.

"It is very hard to work these things out," Telamon replies. "But honesty will keep any metaphorical wounds clean of infection. And I agree with 'Lana -- your willingness to lay everything out on the parchment says volumes about you, sir -- good things."

He grins. "There is something to be said for laying your problems out for family as well. Sometimes they have different viewpoints, or perhaps an idea that might not have occurred to you. You can't choose them, but sometimes they'll give you even better guidance than friends."

Skielstergar looks between the two fronts of compliments before his gaze goes straight to the ground. Ah. That's his tell that he'd be blushing furiously. "...thisss one wasss training to be a Warrior of the Dragonfather. A... Sssunblade of Daeus, in sssoftskin terms. That, erm, didn't pan out, but thossse precepts are ssstill important to thisss one. They just don't want to hurt their friendssss. Thank you both for you kind wordsss."

The proposition makes him tilt his head to the side. "... perhapsss thisss one ssshould. Though, thisss one feelsss they may be a tad biased towards suggesssting kin. But, thisss one will give it a shot."

He looks up finally, him bowing his head some as he puts a hand over the holy symbol on his neck. "... thisss one thanksss you both for your wisssdom, Shamans."

"Giving it a shot is honestly all we can do in life--nothing's really guaranteed, after all, and you don't know unless you try. Or if you're a diviner, but they also can be wrong, even if they don't like to admit it." Ravenstongue snickers a little at her own joke.

"Snacks," Pothy whines. He even pulls a little at Ravenstongue's hair, pulling at a few strands by her face.

Ravenstongue rolls her eyes. "Ahhh, is this your way of saying you want dinner, Pothy?" she asks. She looks to Telamon. "How about it? Should we go stuff his belly full?"

"Be at peace with yourself, Skiel. It's not given to us to master every tide and trial. Just do the best you can." Telamon smiles genuinely at Skiel, dark eyes glinting. "We're all in this together, too. You have friends."

He chuckles as Pothy becomes restive, and reaches over to stroke the bird. "I think we better or he'll be a brat. And we ARE in a library. Alright, Pothy, let's go find a big bowl of snacks for you to dive into."

Skielstregar nods his head slowly, him carefully rising to his towering height once more. A hand on his wounded shoulder, he offers a careful smile, and a light chuckle. "Thisss one will try."

You have friends.

He pauses. Watching the antics of the bird for a moment before resting his dead gaze on Telamon. "... we are. Peace on your nessst, you two."

The makari bows lightly. His tail swinging wide and taking out a shelf as books spill all over the floor.

He blinks, pivots on a heel, then plays forty book pick up. "Fly, you foolsss," he hisses to them as the hot headed librarian could be heard power walking down the aisle from afar.


<OOC> Skielstregar says, "for the record, and Enlarge Person'd skiel is 14' 4" and 2640 pounds."

<OOC> Ravenstongue says, "https://i.imgur.com/fq1dp77.png"

<OOC> Skielstregar just lets that mental image set in

<OOC> Skielstregar snickers

<OOC> Telamon says, "LOL :D"