Riverride and Cookies

Log Info

• Title: Riverride and Cookies
• Emitter: Aryia
• Characters: Aryia, Verna
• Place: Tornmawr River Banks
• Time: December 17th, 2021
• Summary: Aryia invites Verna out on a casual jaunt down the river on a rowboat, an experience that Verna has yet to have. Armed with hot chocolate and warm cookies, they set out on a lazy drift down the river, reflecting on the past, present, and future. Of where they started, and how far they've come.

Northern Banks of the Tornmawr, Late Morning

There's a light cloud cover, yet bright skies that melt away the shadows. Drifts of snow swirl along the air, stitching to cobble and dirt. The banks have small docks for little ferries up and down the river. And one dock held a small rowboat, kept from being swept along the lazy river by a rope in a bundled mul'neissa's hand. Her grey cloak is closed shut, head wrapped up in a green shawl, whistling softly to herself as she rocks back and forth on her feet. She's waiting patiently, a little basket in her other hand, looking up and down the bank for her friend she invited out for the day.

Said invitee is also covered in a gray cloak, and gray robes beneath, without colorful shawl nor scarf to accent. Not that Verna is known for her keen sense of fashion. On a positive note, gray goes well with everything.

"Good day," she greets the rocking mul. "My apologies for the tardiness. There was an unexpected argument between kin concerning the believed wishes of the deceased." Work troubles of the Vardamen.

Aryia's eyes crinkle, the smile under the shawl reaching them. She waggles her fingers from the rope, her putting the basket in the boat so she could free her voice up. "Hello! No worries, it took a bit to rent a boat."

The mute expertly steps in, adapting to the wobble with ease. She holds a hand out towards Verna, offering to help her in. "Step in the center, don't want to tip over in this."<Handspeech>

Verna looks at the ... tiny watercraft, then to Aryia. Back to the craft, back to Aryia. "That is our conveyance?" She inquires, dubiously and rhetorically. Afterall, it was unlikely that Aryia was holding nor renting it for others. "Very well..."

She then studies the boat once more before stepping cautiously into it. It is quite obvious that she is: 1) not a mariner 2) has no desire to become a sub-mariner. <Handspeech>

Aryia bobs her head at the question. Yep, this tiny, two bench rowboat as their vehicle for the present. When she offered to go 'coast down the river', she meant exactly that. The mute easily compensates for Verna's inexperience, her tighting her grip on the rope that was looped around a pole to keep it from floating away, and she shifts her weight to counter it. Unable to speak at the present moment in time, she looks towards the bench and nods towards it.

Fortunately for Verna, any shifting of weight on her part in minimal, such being based upon her mass. She is also VERY prompt to sit down on the seat, as well as grab hold of said seat. All to help maintain balance, of course. Realizing that Aryia is occupied working with her hands, she does not yet comment nor converse.

Once Aryia has her hand back, she holds it up in a calming manner. "Relax, it'll settle," she instructs. Once Verna had herself situated, the mute whips the rope lightly to unravel it from the post, and she coils it quickly on and arm. She stashes it under her seat, takes the oar from behind her, and gently pushes them off the dock to the lazy current of the river.

A paddle on one side, two on the other, a drift into the water one more time, aaaand, there we go, following the river's wishes. <Handspeech>

Verna may not trust a conveyance she cannot control with a thought. At best, most of them are rather uncomfortable. Yet, she nods to acknowledge. Indeed, once everyone is settled, the craft does not suddenly upend and feels somewhat... stable.

She then feels comfortable enough to glance about at their surroundings. Yet perhaps not enough to free her hands to sign. "Do you travel the river like thus often?"

Aryia brings the small basket to her lap, her unfurling a white and red checkered cloth as Verna speaks. Steam rises out from the bundle, and she pulls out a large metal flask, along with a couple of cups. Setting them down to the side, she finally answers, "No, I tend to outpace everything. But I do like to row out into the bay sometimes. I've been so busy with everything else, I forgot that I actually like being on boats from time to time."

The lid is popped on the flask, and she fills both the cups up with a thick, steaming drink. One is offered to Verna.

The smell of chocolate wafts over the raft. <Handspeech>

Verna ahs softly and nods. Still concerned of unexpected tidal waves, typhons, gravity-inversions or whatnot, she carefully reachs out for the offered cup. All while achored with the other hand. She has not yet acclimated and acquired her 'sea legs,' nor even 'sea buttocks.' "Thank you. I suppose that this would be rather slow for you... however, at times, there are benefits to taking time when haste is not necessary."

Perhaps the only sort of nautical nonsense that would befall the two would be crashing into something. Or a sudden sleetstorm capsizing them. Yet, thankfully, the mute captain was rather adept at ensuring the former wouldn't happen.

The latter was all on Dana.

"Absolutely. Like right now, I don't think I want to rush getting to the end of the river to the port to finish spending time with my friend so quickly," she elaborates with a hand. Said hand pulls down the green shawl, to smile, and to take a sip of the warm drink. "So... are you doing well? Taking to this new found free time easily?"<Handspeech>

Verna considers that question, and sips at the drink during the course. "I am well, and the quiet time is a relief. Odd, and requires some acclimation, yet a relief. As well, time available to invest in the company of others is most welcome, yourself included." She seems to agree that there is no haste to reach the sea.

Aryia nods, and smiles a bit more at being included in such a list. The basket is set down, and the mute gestures towards it. There's a small stack of warm cookies ripe for the picking. "I do hope it becomes less odd for you."

She snipes a cookie and nibbles on it, her looking up to the bridge as they lazily pass under it. "There was a time where I'd never thought I'd get out," she explains with her free hand idly. "I'd given up. Was a lot of points I could have tried to run, but I knew it just wasn't worth it. If someone told me I'd be drinking chocolate, a luxury, while having a nice boat ride with a friend on a lazy day, I'd have punch that person." <Handspeech>

"I will make a point to not mention such," Verna notes in her typical deadpan before adding, "and I understand the meaning. There are many facets of the present that I would not have concieved, much less expected, in the past. It is good that time changes all, is it not?" Another sip.

Aryia snorts at the Verna humor, her crossing one leg over the other as the sky reveals itself once more. "It is good. For better or for worse. We are not stagnant beings. We are not inevitable, or immortals."

She closes her eyes, leaning back against the back of the boat to rest. She signs in front of her, comfortable in the rowboat. "I wonder what the future holds? How we will change? How I will change? Will the future me accept the current me?"

Or will the current me, accept the past me, she doesn't add. <Handspeech>

Verna holds her mug a moment and rolls at least one shoulder in answer. "Some aspects we might be able to predict with reasonable accuracy, yet there are many unknowns." She may or may not read into the last question. "I expect that our future selves hold no issues with the current incarnations. There may well be decisions or actions regreted, yet the future is, of course, built upon the present."

Another sip, and a slow nod. "... you bring up a good point. There would be no reason for our future selves to be frustrated at us now. Though, aside from some chiding remarks on stupid decisions," Aryia motions before picking up the oar to slightly adjust a drift.

Oar returned, she looks to Verna. "What I wonder, is what will we be capable of? I... worry that I know not what lies ahead in terms of my capabilities. It's been some time since I've had someone to measure against. Or, rather, what is even capable now." <Handspeech>

Verna's hood tilts at Aryia musings and wonderings. "In what way would you evaluate, and which capabilities? Could you strike down stone walls? Or Fiends? Perhaps mountains?

Could you find memories long thought lost? Or Family? A lover?

All are differing measures of differing capability."

Aryia's visage colors somewhat from that, and not from the cold. "... yes, yes. Again, you're right. I suppose the only comparison I can do is against myself. From what I couldn't do, to what I can do now."

She's content to be silent for the time. Then, curious, a hand asks, "... what was it like for you? When you first ventured out? I got here in rags and seasodden boots, running away from everything. Shit, I almost lost a leg from a fucking grub. A. Grub." <Handspeech>

A new question to consider. One that one would expect to be rather simple, given that it is personal history, and yet Verna takes some time before responding. Perhaps to become more comfortable and lock the cup in her lap, as she gestures. "It was rather trying. I had little experience, and minimal knowledge. My journey here consumed what little funds I possessed, and I owned only what I carried. Not so different from your own arrival, I expect. I do not recall any specific instance of far past victory nor defeat."

She pauses and frowns at that. "Which I should, thus it is a failing. A regret of current wisdom, I suppose, to past."

Aryia doesn't hear a verbal response, her feeling the boat shake and shift some from small motions. She cracks an eye open and sits up, only losing the first few signs. She bobs her head along, smiling softly. "I had the clothes on my back, a compass, a few coins, and a bag after I left the ship. Nothing more," she confirms.

She gives a small sigh, and nods slowly. "That's okay. I was just curious as to what Verna was like back then. Counting spells that could be used like they were one's last copper, doing every trick in the book to avoid danger. My first job here with the guild was getting into a warehouse ran by a gang. Nearly got a bolt in my skull, was so nervous. Thank fuck I can knock those out of the air." <Handspeech>

"I believe that I caught my fair share of sharp objects," Verna admits, now both verbally and in sign. Redundancy. As well, she adds some ... descriptively-mimed gestures alongside the formal signs. The mention of counting spells actually smooths and even slightly inverts her frown before she nods.

"Counting, indeed, and in small digits. Lacking the practice and stamina for lengthy preparation, I was required to be more judicious, and to bring more mundane weaponry. Rather like a dragonspitter with only a few cartridges."

Aryia chuckles silently. "That's a good way to put it. I don't really get the whole magic thing that some people can do. Shit, I'm not sure how even I do my magic, though I know I feel sort of tapped out when trying it again."

The mute nabs another cookie, getting through it fully before continuing. "I... really don't like holding weapons. It's the cutting part I really don't like," she admits slowly, revealing a minor phobia. "But I had to do the same before. I had some gloves with cold iron plates on them before to deal with fiends. Now I just punch so hard I don't even need them. Though, a friend of mine suggested throwing spikes to deal with things at a distance."

Realizing she was rambling, she shakes her head with a grin. "But, yes. If you told past Aryia she'd be leaping over buildings or wrestling a fiend out of the sky and succeeding, she'd say you're full of shit." <Handpseech>

After watching another cookie vanish, Verna is either emboldened to try one, assured they are tasty, and/or concerned that if she does not act now that the supply will empty before she can. She retrieves one for herself and nibbles upon it. Then a bit more. In the end, it is consumed (and perhaps more thoughts considered) before she comments.

"You have a fair idea of what it is to use magic. Regardless of the source or form, channeling such is tiring. As for weaponry, or perhaps any tool, there is no harm to broaden one's collection for preparedness. Better, I believe, to have an item unused than to require one that is not present."

On the matter of past Aryias, a thought strikes related to future versions. "Given that you can achieve acts or otherwise succeed in ways that you would never have imagined nor believed in the past... Would that not likely hold true for the future from now, as well? You wondered what you might accomplish. The answer would thus be that you shall accomplish more than you could curently imagine or expect possible."

It was probably a good idea to take the cookies when one could. Those chocolate chip delights were still warm, and in the chill, it'd fade fast. And Aryia was not above executing a flurry of chomps to ensure they didn't grow cold.

She nods slowly. "Was considering adding them as decoration to my jacket, then tie them in a way that I could tug them off and throw them really fast if I had to."

That gets her to cease her cookie annihilation, her tapping her chin with the remains of one chocolate chip delights. ".... and then by that logic, it's wasted effort to try and comprehend it. Best to let it be a daydream than flounder at the unknown." She points her cookie remains at Verna, smiling softly. "Wise." <Handspeech>

Verna returns the smile, if slenderly and partly hidden by her hood. Even as she reaches to claim another cookie. She would not want to let them become cold. That would be wsateful.

"I consider it encouraging. Whatever the future holds, you will -exceed- what you can imagine. I can imagine quite far, and I expect you can, as well."

Aryia can't help but chuckle silently. "This is true. And the same goes for you too, Verna. I've noticed you're taking the time to enjoy the things around you." <Handspeech>

Verna nods. Twice, in fact. "Indeed, I do, or attempt to. Someone made me aware of that lack, not so long ago." A pause before she adds, "Perhaps more than one, as believe that you mentioned similar."

Aryia snicker, her reaching over to top off Verna's drink. "Yes. It's important to take stock of what's in the moment."

Like right now. With cookies, a warm drink, and the gentle eddies of the river that lazily carry the rowboat down the river. They're not even halfway through the city. <Handspeech>

And yet, who's actually keeping track?

-End Scene-