Tapping on Eggshells

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Log Info

  • Title: Tapping on Eggshells
  • Emitter: Cryosanthia
  • Characters: Cryosanthia, Jinks, Faranmidahn
  • Place: W02: Mictlan
  • Time: Tuesday, February 08, 2022, 8:59 PM; Wednesday, February 09, 2022, 6:00 PM; Sunday, February 13, 2022, 7:44:44 PM
  • Summary:Jinks and Faranmidhan visit with Cryosanthia and the other Nest-Mothers. The gnome's unexpected aging is discussed. The eggs are on the verge of hatching and dancing lights cantrips are used to look at the soond-to-be hatchlings inside them.

-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-<* W02: Mictlan *>-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-

Located within the Deep Woods, and hours past Wilderness Pointe, in the heart of its northern woods, bones frame this hollowed-out space. Massive and heavy, they reach towards the sky, meeting--almost--in the center like great and worn stalagmites. Or giant teeth. After a few seconds--it's quickly evident that this is a space carved from a dragon's bones. A very, very large...dragon's bones. The air smells of ash, brimstone, and earth. Underneath the apex of the bones lie the workings of a central Fire.

The grounds are run by shamans of the sith-makar, and the sacred space dedicated to the Death Singing Dragon, one of their names for the goddess, Vardama. There are always a number of them about, from a mixture of tribes. Formally, the sith use it to sing the souls of their dead back to the land of Wing and Flame, and celebrate the Memory of Blood. It was here that brave heroes stood, and vanquished the ashen warriors of old, thereby freeing the land from Thul's curse. Informally, it is a gathering place.

-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-  Appearing  -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Cryosanthia  6'9"     291 Lb     Sith-Makar        Female    A dashingly tall, elegant white-scaled lizard woman.  
Faranmidahn  3'3"     35 Lb      Halfling          Female    Albino Lucht woman. Knight of Spiders. So, SO Fluffy.
Jinks        3'4"     39 Lb      Gnome             Male      A gnomish fellow in fancy garb and jewelry.
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=

Mictlan, the Nesting Grounds.

The time of hatching is close upon the sith'makar mothers, and a lot of preparations have been underway. Food has been gathered, structures expanded upon, the Egg-watchers and the Nest-Mothers have been learning about hatchlings, nestlings and what to expect. Nahuatl has been very informative.

The eggs themselves have grown a little larger, their shells becoming thinner and less flexible as the embryos develop. The Nest-Mothers have adjusted to their roll of sitting there and waiting, some better than others.

Cryo and Xochi are the most fidgity, with both white and red scale wanting to wander off, practice dance or fighting techniques and generally involve themselves with their prior lives. They have to be reminded, frequently, that diplomatic services are not needed, in Cryo's case, or that she isn't an Egg-Watcher currently, in Xochi's.

The metallics handle things with more aplomb. All of them have gotten to know each other very well.

And Cryosanthia has found a way to leave without leaving. Her scrying mirror, and some extra illusions that allow the others to easily view it, allows for some entertaining excursions. "Whom should we check on today?"

"Why don't you say hello to one of your little friends?" Xochi growls, feigning disinterest.

"Right! Hmm. Faran or Jinks?" The whitescale asks, then decides, "Jinks is probably more entertaining."

Only time will tell. It's at least and hour's casting.

Coincidences are funny. Or at least they often are. As the colors begin to resolve into vague shapes in Cryosanthia's mirror (somewhere past two-thirds of an hour later), Jinks arrives for an unscheduled visit on the back of Neighsayers. The pony is in fantastic health; he's better fed, dressed, and groomed than the majority of Alexandrians. The animal trots happily under warm barding to one side of their sith-makar escort, puffing out great gusts of steam with a happy snort.

The bard is under a traveling coat of deep green lined with shining, thick black fur. His wide hood is up and his face wrapped in a scarf a lighter shade of green sewn with glittering black semi-precious stones. He's starting to get that vague feeling of being watched and that's led him to squinting into the bushes or looking back over his shoulder even as he dismounts.

A moment is taken to pat Enness, feed him a carrot, and then tether him off to a nearby tree before Jinks begins humming on his way to look in on the white sith-makar at her nest.

"Oh! He's coming here." Papalotl says, as the image resolves. "What happens if the scrying mirror sees itself?"

"I don't know." Cryo says, leaning closer.

"A tunnel happens where what it sees grows." Metztli elaborates.

"Right, right, and it gets very loud if the message spell is going. Huh." The whitescale is right up against the illusion of the image in the scrying bowl, "His pony looks great and he looks terrible. I wonder if the image lies."

Which is said just in time for him to hear her. In unison the sith'makar women raise their heads to watch the entrance to the palisade surrounding the mastaba.

The gnome is pulling back his hood as he steps through and into the palisade, pausing just within the perimeter to quirk an eyebrow at the many reptilian eyes turned his way. Recovering from the shock quickly, he undoes the top two toggles of his coat and then tugs the scarf looser around his face. His piercing's have increased; a new set of butterfly kisses in small platinum studs frame his onyx-black eyes.

"So I thought this would be a nice surprise... but I feel like was expected," Jinks admits with a grin. "Did I make a date and forget, ladies?" His hair is down and a bit longer than usual, tucked behind his ears. His goatee is fuller. However, the gnome's shock-white hair is no whiter, shockingly.

"You're all looking well. Not much longer, eh?" The minstrel continues to walk closer, opening his coat the whole way down.

"Thanks! Thank you." Is echoed from each nest as the compliment is well received. There's only one growl, and it's very quiet and low key.

"You weren't expected, but you were on our minds." Cryosanthia says, smiling and keeping her nose dipped, at least until she sniffs at him. "It should be soon."

"We can hear scratching." Zama adds. She's still surrounded by books, but there is a window in one of the shelf-walls where she can look out.

The whitescale grins, "new piercings? Is there a story behind them?"

"My jeweler neighbors-- the pair I bought my apartment from, Elsie and Madze-- made them for me and I had them enchanted to enhance my senses." Jinks grins, walking close enough and turning his head to show Cryosanthia the divination runes etched in miniature. "Glasses were never my style," he adds, leaning back and wrinkling his nose. "Why hide any piece of something this wonderful from the world? Lady Inspiration would surely curse me."

And he does look more handsome; mature and maybe a fraction more confident (if such a thing were possible). The extra years thrust on the gnome for his adventure into the Harpist's Halls sit well enough. Though much of this is likely lost on the reptilian ladies.

Jinks can't help but look between the nests and what eggs fall into his view, especially at the mention of scratching. "Coyote laugh with you all in the coming days and weeks, then. I hope it all goes off without a hitch... and Draco Solis grant you strength for and patience with the little ones."

There's a pregnant pause and he considers Cryosanthia for a moment before adding, "We have Aya. The part of her that matters most, at least; one less thing for you to worry about."

Cryo visibly relaxes, a tension she wasn't aware she was holding in her muscles vanishing, accompanied by a heavy breath, "Oh good. That's good. Thank you for telling me."

The change in the gnome is lost on the ladies, excepting the whitescale. She's worldly enough to denote the differences in softskins that the scaled overlook. The minor hints help as well. "Your neighbours sound very nice, and the accoutrements are excellent. They do enhance."

A few heads bob, agreeing.

Cryo jumps a few conclusion ahead. He has been where she was told she would not go, the Grey Halls. And there was a cost. She frowns. "Hmmm."

"Oh!" Jinks snaps his fingers, remembering to fish something out from the inside of his coat. He extracts a pungent pouch of herbs and other scents reminiscent of the tundra. "It's tea. Called..." he glances down at a little parchment label and reads, "'Tiilaqait.'" He holds it out to the whitescale, "I didn't want to visit empty-handed and a friend said this was popular in north Stormgarde and the communities of the Icewall range. The smells remind me of the flatlands below home."

After the gift is taken he has another sniff of his palm and then steps back, dropping his hands into his pockets. "If you have any requests for my next visit let me know; I'm always happy to run something up."

"Tillaquait?" Cryo repeats, taking the pouch and holding it to her nose, following with a long inhale of the scent. She tilts her head the other way, "Thank you! Brae might be interested in this too."

She sits back on her nest and exhales slowly, "Honestly the one that knocks you out might be useful." This is followed by a long stare, all of them, focusing on Jinks with a growing silence. None of them move. Until they do, the heads of the sith'makar turning to glance at each other.

"Sorry," Papalotl says. "Yeah," adds Xochi. There are other murmured apologies and then Cryo fills in the missing puzzle piece.

"My mind wandered. I was listening for scratching. All of us were. It wasn't anything you did." She explains, then frowns, "So, you have Aya's soul? Why isn't that enough, to wish her back, resurrect her, reincarnate her? I mean, Merek has died SO MANY times and Cesran has brought him back at least... twice? I think? She'd be so much better at hunting herself down."

"The creature inhabiting or controlling her true body may be an issue... or just the fact that her body is still 'alive' may be the limiting factor," Jinks answers after he recovers from being briefly nonplussed by the odd moment. "I've offered Cesran the wealth I have to see about creating a new home for Aya's soul but he's shying away from that option for the moment.

"Alexandria is hosting a boy of prophecy that has ties to Aya. We may see some satisfaction-- or at least some answers-- when we meet with him tomorrow eve." The gnome isn't sure but seems hopeful, at least, and worried at the same time. He twirls the coyote-chasing-its-tail band he wears on his left ringfinger.

"... the Tsura witch got the tea for me but promises the properties are entirely mundane. She just has suppliers for all manner of herbs and the like; Supplies my balms and ointments. Let me know if you like it," he requests with another smile. "It's strange but I have an image of you on the tundra. Hence the inspiration."

Eventually, after a long ride through the wood, the joyous squealing of a particular carnationscale echoes in particular increasing volume of proximity through the palisade.

From above, there is the rustle of tree, the culprit?

The tenacious Torrent, bearing Sir Faranmidahn, as well as the vivacious Lily, who is waving her claws under her head before the arachnid's path brings them down the trunk toward the nest mothers with a, "Yassssssssssss!"

There is a giggle from the fluffy Knight of Spiders, and she calls a warm, "Hello, ladies! We return with snacks!"

"It's..." Cryo straightens her neck, focusing directly on Jinks with an odd expression crossing her generally expressionless face. Her eye ridges wrinkle, there's an intensity in her eyes, and distant reply which is lost in hissing whispers. Her head tilts, "I can imagine you in a school jumper, and much younger, for some reason."

Which gets everyone looking at her, then him. She moves on.

"Well, Strike is a golem re-housed in a half-sil. I wouldn't think it impossible for a suitable skilled Archmage to come up with something." Don't think about Liches. Don't think about Liches.

Think about Lily, and Faran! "Faran! Lily. Snacks? What snacks?"

Two Egg-Watchers appear out of nowhere, hands outstretched, "Snax Tax."

As the cavalier brings her mount to ground level, she twists some and strokes along Lily's headscales with a little smile, then, "She was a very good girl, Cryo, as usual."

She tilts her head a little, then, "We found a bunch of fruit and, some nuts." Each snack is punctuated with a shake of a pouch hanging from her saddle.

As the Sith arrive for tithe, she smiles up their way and fiddles with one of the bags to scoop out some of the local citrus, "Here you go!"

Jinks actually blushes at that, shaking his head and rubbing his face lightly at the moment of Faranmidahn and Lily's arrival. The gnome goes to the balls of his feet instinctively, ready to dodge some incoming missile (should it come-in). He lifts a glittering hand to wave at the Luckt and kobold duo, stepping out of the way should the latter want to make a line for her mother.

"We'll sort her out, Cryosanthia. Even if it's the last thing I do," he adds the last bit with a wink. Gallows humor. "Hello, good sir knight and soon-to-be big sister Lily," he offers when he needs not shout. "We were just discussing the pending excitement of new arrivals..."

Tayanna and Yaotl take their tax and vanish back into the protective shadows. A scaled pink missile does head directly for her mother and turns to hiss affectionately at Jinks, protecting their nest from him. Her tail is wagging, however, and she says "Peassce on your Nesst."

Cryo adjusts, curling her tail around her founding, nodding to Jinks' response. "Scales! I should have set up Mage's Private Sanctum. Next time, remember, if we're going to talk about sensitive subjects tell me cast it. I sometimes do in the morning, but not always, and I forgot today."

A glance down at Lily suggests she doesn't want to discuss the sensitive subject further, especially as little tympanums may have already heard too much. The whitescale switches topics, "Yes, they'll be soon. We're hearing more scratching and movement. Did Lily tell you about that? Where did you find fruits and nuts in winter?"

Faran smiles after Lily as she shoots off after Cryo, and she bows her head, "Hello, Master Jinks, too long we've been bereft of your charm and talents." she greets, then busies herself with dismounting, "I see we came back at a... poignant moment?"

"That smell might be the tea," Jinks jokes, artfully dodging the intended meaning of Faran's chosen descriptor. The gnome grins and shakes his head, "And I'm sorry for being away so long; the life of the perpetually debauched is busy and exhausting. But I simply had to make time today before the true chaos arrives," he scans the eggs, remembering a day of play and being oh-so-tiny.

The gnome returns Lily's greeting in a mastered draconic, swapping 'peace' for 'joy' as the former seems unlikely with pending events. "You seem bigger," he adds, "are you trying to grow taller than me? I simply won't stand for that."

"Yaasss." Lily says, standing straight, and she is taller. She has grown and is becoming a striking young adult kobold. She might not top the gnome in height, but the avarice in her eyes as she examines his new jewelry suggests she might develop a sartorial interest that exceeds his.

After which she scrambles into Cryo's nest and examines all her eggs. She listens to them and swaps cozies around, careful not to otherwise disturb them. The whitescale lifts a little, so there's clearance under her roof.

"Looks like a lot of years, a lot of hard partying." Cryo surmises, "did you experience them or did they just... go? I lived mine, they weren't great but I had them. The shock was for everyone else."

Humor sort of falls off Faran's face at the particulars of the conversation, and she spends a few moments fussing over Torrent rather than deigning to weight in on that just yet. There is a certain set to her shoulders, though, as she strokes the spider's shell and tells him quietly what a good boy he is.

"Most recently? Our time in the Harpist's Halls were taxing." Jinks admits with a bittersweet smile. The gnome brushes a thumb along his laughlines, above the butterfly kisses, and blinks in reflex. "I still feel a good two centuries of drinking and whor... --ticultural pursuits ahead of me," he adds, stucking on a syllable and considering Lily until he manages to redirect his tongue to more child-friendly diction. He bites his lip and looks to one side, shaking his head. "I'm also pledged for a decade of devotions to the Feiu but I find her Mourners to be pleasant company."

There's a glance at Faran and he tilts his head, scanning back to Cryosanthia. "But the rest is my fault... as most things are," he laughs. A moment's concentration and he reveals the whitescale's vision to her; a younger gnome with short, red hair, parted to one side. Bright green eyes and a youthful smile lacking any hint of its sarcastic edge. The uniform isn't quite right; his memory of the thing has it oversized and ill-fitting, much like his time spent at the Enclave's student annex.

"The Laughing One and I had a disagreement shortly before I left Clockwork Point," the bard explains, eyeing his sleeves of his uniform coat and brushing at its front. "And I had a hard lesson to learn." He shrugs and the color drains out of his face and hair, replaced by the brilliance of his garb and the obscene abundance of jewelry. His over-compensation. "So my hair and eyes are a sort of reminder and I understand that Coyote's laugh isn't always a friendly one. So I try do better," he smiles at the sith-makar, "and sometimes I make the same mistakes. Maybe some day I'll fix enough and be myself again." 'Jinks' winks and sticks his hands back in his pockets.

"If you find a way to turn back time I wouldn't mind a few years, my front scales tightened up and my hips back to normal." Cryo laughs with a smile.

"Your next molt will fix your scales but your hips will stay." Nahuatl says as she passes by, shaking her head and waggling a finger, "the hatchlings will eat your sanity through your vanity, Cryosanthia. Let these things go."

Advice which gets a long stare from the whitescale. She looks back at the gnome, "Ah, yes, that's... what I imagined you'd look like. Well, we can always hope with older comes wiser though it often hasn't seemed so."

Lily is staring at Jinks, and then taps her Ssassa, "Assk him what flowerrsss."

"Knowledge, certainly. Wisdom...?" Jinks laughs and shrugs. "And don't worry, I'll be vane enough for the two of us while you focus on being a mother." Another wink then he glances down at Lily and quirks an eyebrow, "Flowers?"

"With your whor... --ticultural purssuitss..." The little pinkscale hisses. Someone has perhaps overheard too many bored Nest-Mothers reading from the Crimson Pen.

"Tulips." Cryosanthia interrupts in an admonishing tone, "and Lupins. Lupins are very popular with bards and highwaymen. Now Lily, are all your little brothers and sisters good?"

"Yaaasss," she reports, turning to face upwards.

"Come check my nest." Xochi calls out, her tone one the gnome has never heard before, an genuinely inviting one.

The pinkscale starts her rounds.

Wednesday, February 09, 2022, 6:00 PM

Faranmidahn's ministrations continue for a bit longer as the two continue to speak. Her hands busy themselves with the set of some of the boiled leather encapsulating one of Torrent's legs.

"To make amends can be... quite the undertaking." the eldritch knight notes thoughtfully without looking back, "But each day we live is another chance to set things right. To make them better."

Jinks can't help but laugh, caught in his own quick thinking but saved by Cryosanthia's. "I've never been overly picky, honestly." He admits, looking down long enough to wipe at the corner of his eye. "Anything that doesn't require too much work and is pleasing to look upon," he keeps the lasciviousness of the double entendre out of his tone but does spare the whitescale a wink when Lily isn't looking.

"Well said," the gnome agrees with Faranmidahn, nodding his head and smiling faintly. "And these things are made easier when we have friends that forgive and help us to be better..."

The answer satisfies the little kobold, and she watches Jinks intently as he answers. "Okaaay."

Next, as she was invited, Lily scrambles out of Cryo's nest and over to Xochi where the red-scale makes room for the small kobold. Each of her eggs are carefully listened to, while both red and white scaled women look on.

"Some things can't be mended, some breaks never heal." Cryo says, exhaling and watching Faranmidahn and Torrent. "We fix what we can and learn to live with the rest, I guess, and hope to know the difference."

The whitescale falls silent, and the air around her is cooler. She makes a motion for the fluffy knight to come closer, it's clear she wants to embrace her. "When we have friends, and the words. It's hard to forgive the past when it's left there unaddressed. I'm glad to have you both."

"What about me?" Xochi asks.

Cryo snickers and snorts, "Yes, you're a friend too. This clutch has bound us all together."

Lily meanwhile is carefully pressing her head against Xochi's eggs, "Thiss oness very loud."

Faranmidahn turns some at the rebuttal, regarding the fellow past her shoulder. Her chin dips, but the corner of her mouth draws up a touch, "And as much for you, sir."

As turns more fully as Cryosanthia makes her own return and a subtle wan humor shades her expression, yet she can but nod in concession, "Also true, alas."

She takes the silent invitation with a peculiar knocking against the Spider's shell.

Torrent, for his part, seems to take that as the time to tuck in for a nap.

The Purple Rose steps fluffily toward her sister, "We are all of us friends, here." she adds.

Lily's response gets a blink her way, "Loud?"

"Perhaps a bard in the hatching," Jinks suggests with obvious amusement. He's working at something under his coat without paying it much attention, offering a look of mock-condolence Xochi, "Sorry; they're no shortage of trouble."

With a sigh, a buckle clicks loose and the gnome is shrugging out of a harness that holds his bow strapped to his back. The contraption previously concealed by illusory magics, it comes into plain view when it's no longer attached to the minstrel's back. He shrugs and shimmies, freeing it completely, and drops the extra weight to the side. A buckler clatters on the assembly, too.

"Likewise, lizard," offers the minstrel with mock glibness. "Considering my time after that rough return it truly is a miracle to be standing here... and no small one, either."

"No! They're all Warrior caste!" Xochi insists, "No Speakers!"

Cryo chuffs, "I thought we were friends," then laughs.

Lily attempts to answer Faranmidahn, "movingss loudly. Hatchingss ssoon."

Cryo meanwhile, picks up Faran and hugs her, some relative warmth returning to her immediate presence. She noses through the lucht's fluffy hair and settles on her nest. "This one may have saved magic, but can't save the world. Jinks..." her words trail off, "... there's a lot, but it's fine. My wings are large and you are under them. Both of you. All of you." She squeezes Faran.

"Oh stop bragging about yoru wings," Papalotl says with a snort, "come listen to mine Lily." The Crafter-caste's nest is lowered to the ground.

Faranmidahn ah's and nods, smiling a little more, "That's good to hear, thank you, Lily!"

She thinks back to that unsettling night in the Fernwood, the one before the terrible night in the Fernwood, when she was called warrior caste by an absent friend.

She's certainly come a long further along with her sorcery than her strength of arms, of late, and the conversation prompts an errant question, "What cast am I, then...?"

She tucks a bit, arms curling around her sister sighing with some comfort as she is nuzzled.

Of Jinks, she remarks, "Well that you are. You've been of great help in the time I've known you."

"'Appear useful occasionally and you're less liable to be run out of town when things go wrong,'" Jinks intones, quoting a scamp's line from some comedy or another. He arches his back, bracing his hands beneath his coat just above his belt. There's a pop or two coupled with a mild groan.

"I know, Cryo. Thanks," he smiles warmly and nods. "And I'm quite serious... whatever you need. Enness and I have become quite the pair and the weather isn't so bad. The occasional trip out of the city is a nice change of pace."

There's a glance at Xochi and he can't help but smirk mischievously, "Try to force them all into a mold and you're sure to get a whole band of rebels."

"Well... " Cryo starts to say, mindful and sensitive to her scale-sister's self-image, "... you join the caste that most interests you. There are Lore-Keepers who could have been Warrior-caste, and Shaman-Caste who could have been Crafter-Caste or Speakers. Among the people, one presents their skills and the caste representatives make their offers and then you are named and accepted."

She nuzzles the Lucht's head, "if you wish, you could ask at the next ceremony."

She nods next at Jinks, giving him a long stare and finally saying, "For now, be here for me. This one needs friends, and perspective." She winks, "And perhaps a duet, we were going to write a song, weren't we?"

"Oh it's very enjoyable when you show up." Zama adds, leaning out of her window. "You're going to be singing so many lullabys."

That's a cynical way to look at things...

Faran takes a thoughtful eye at Jink's retort, but she nods a little bit, regardless.

She looks up toward the palescale, not even sure when she started scritching at her scales, as Cryosanthia elaborates on her question.

Hmmm.

"It was... just a thought, thank you, though."

She smiles more naturally as the Makari's banted comes back to the Gnome, "I've been practicing my trilling, though I still can't do it for more than a few minutes at a time."

"We did say that," Jinks agrees with Cryosanthia, nodding his head. "I've been trying to find an old poem about a rose-gold dragon I remember hearing once," he admits, glancing after Lily as she scurries between the nests hard at work. "It was a sweet story about being stuck between two worlds of mixed parents. There was some moral..." he thinks, lifting a hand that's pulled a coin seemingly from thin air to roll behind his knuckles. "Probably finding your own path... but I cannot recall.

"... but I'd be happy to sing with you-- or write," the gnome flips the coin into the air and catches it, busying his hand with the little bits of legerdemain. "I'd even gift you a dance were your hips not ruined," he chuckles with a teasing wink. "I'm happy to sing for the Harpist but I'd rather not have her catalogue supplant my standards."

"Mmmfff!" Cryosanthia makes a noise somewhat like a growl, "I'm allowed to say they're too wide, you're not. They aren't ruined... just... it will take some adjustment." Clearly it's a sore spot.

Lily, the carnation coloured Kobold, explores Papalotl's elaborate nest and her eggs. Each one has it's own mini-nest hutch, complete with handles to move it around. Eggs generally shouldn't be disturbed, but the bronze scale's construction would allow that even though she hasn't made any use. Lily pops the lid and listens, going egg to egg as the nest-mother watches.

Cryo noses at Faran some more, "I remember singing scales during combat. We'll have to compare our trilling. Yours was very good. Some trilling, some dancing, and no singing for the Death Singing Dragon until you learn how to do it properly, Jinks."

Xochi crouches low over her nest, verifying Lily's findings.

Sunday, February 13, 2022, 7:44:44 PM

Faranmidahn seems a little in her head, but nods, regardless and gives her sister a more vigorous squeeze, then a kiss on the side of her neck.

There is a soft, hmmm, and she wonders, "Would they be offended if I transformed...?" she whispers softly.

After all, knowing a tiny mammal can get tinier is one thing, but becoming one of the People?

Some my catch some scale mites over that.

Jinks nods to the whitescale's answer, and her questionable embarrassment, "back in a moment Ladies, I need to see a pony about a horse." He slips out.

Cryo is following Lily as moves about, the kiss on her neck making her sigh. Would they be offended... it's a good question. Over the last few weeks she's become much closer to women who were essentially strangers, with little in common beyond their timing.

The redscale is most likely to take offense, she reacts badly to new things.

"I think it will be ok," Cryo says finally, "there were the practices earlier where you and Jinks were small, it will be similar, and you are my scale-sister."

Faranmidahn considers that for a moment or two, then nods, smiling a little closer to normal, then disentangles herself from Cryosanthia and leans to one side to be visible to the other others.

"Ladies? I'm going to use a little magic, please be calm, it only lasts for a few minutes!"

Edging back a little more since... well, she has theories about her appearance, and doesn't want to risk twisting up the unhatched, she slowly brings her hand up to her brow as she cycles through three arcane gestures and closes her eyes.

"Path unset, my form revised, unlock me, both shape and size!" <halfling>

In the wake of iridescent shimmers and shadowy motes, the little knight is now a tall, sleek Sith of truly pale scales and ruby eyes. These blink as she briefly teeters, tail twitching to compensate, then she tries an open mouth smile.

"Ooooo, oh you look beautiful!" Cryo says, staring at Faran'makar, inhaling her scent. She does find pale scales very attractive, and expected of her albino scale-sister.

"Tia Farans!" Lily squeaks, attaching herself to a leg and a hug, bailing out of Papalotl's nest.

Cryo chuffs, and the other sith make some welcoming hisses. Xochi seems non-plussed, and it's Zama who comments, "I thought a knight might turn silver, or gold."

"Oh, gold-scales are very rare." Metzlti adds, "You do look stunning."

The gnome isn't gone long, needing to simply water the pony as he'd forgotten to do in his excitement upon arriving. Jinks returns running his hands back through his hair, shaking out the extra length and smiling contentedly at the feel of his fingertips against his scalp. He extracts the digits carefully, making sure not to tug at a stray strand that might have gotten tangled in his jewels and settings.

The minstrel pulls up short at the amazed chorus and transformed knight, an eyebrow crawling up of its own accord. He's fishing out his flask even as he shakes his head in a mild kind of amusement. "It certainly is a different look," offers the gnome, feeling increasingly outnumbered.

Faranmidahn sinks down to gently take up her niece in her arms, nuzzling with her temporary snout, "Hellow, sweetie!" she croons gently. She sniffs the child, then nuzzles her sister, "Thanks, sister." she purrs.

With Zama's commentary, and Metzltl's compliment, she dips a bit in a sort of awkward bow, "Thank you! It's..."

Hrm..

Her head cocks to one side as her new tail undulates absently behind her, "I imagine I could, but... the godds decided I would be pale." To suffer under Daeus's glare unless she duly protects herself, "I remain so when I transform... it feels.... dishonest, otherwise."

Big ruby blinky eyes, "Does that sound silly?"

She turns, carefully, at the sound of Jinks return, and she gives another open mouth Sith smile, "Ah! It's.. well... one of the first forms I took when I figured out the spell." She glances to Cryosanthia, then, "I'm afraid I can't use it on others, though, or I'd offer..."

"No, that sounds delightfully honest," Zama admits, leaning on her window.

"Better than pretending you have red scales," Xochi adds, focused on the important things.

Lily squirms in Faran's embrace, pink scales against pale, truly looking the part of the neice.

Cryo meanwhile has a knowing and impish grin, and while she keeps her muzzle dipped, the view for a short person on the ground is still intimidating, "Oh this one has a polymorph scroll. I'd have to put on my vest, but it would last a few minutes." She snorts, her tail swaying eagerly behind her, "This one wouldn't dare suggest Jinks cover his attractive pate with scales though, and his alcohol consumption would be all messed up. We must respect our elders, after all."

"I'd never considered a shifting palate in regards to experiencing spirits under the effects of transmutation spells..." Jinks muses, quite obviously intrigued by the idea. "Or the implications of a shift internal systems and re-balancing of humours." He has another long pull from the flask and swishes it around, as if trying to extrapolate how things might be different; the sort of science experiment a gnome might live for.

A smirk and a laugh follows as he considers the whitescale. "If I'm not allowed to make jokes about your still-wonderfully-intact shape then we won't be making jokes about the years I surrendered to the Harpist's realm." The gnome brushes at the more-pronounced nasolabial folds creeping from the corners of his eyes.

"... but you're right; Lady Inspiration's triumph might not be properly appreciated here but there is no shortage of People who're already upset enough about the layers I have to stack against this damned cold." He half-turns and raises up his coat, dusting at his rump in a bit of lewd pantomime.

The note of honesty makes Faran feel better, though she cocks her head quizzically at Xochi on her remark, "If I ever chose to do more common coloring, it would likely be for a quest, or mission. To try and avoid violence." She shrugs, diverting her attention briefly toward nuzzling Lily some more, then looks back to the Mothers, "Never something for my own amusement, which is... most of what I use this spell for."

She looks to Jinks and steps closer to the master Bard, as he and her sister negotiate who gets to bust whose chops and how. As he notes, in particular, his difficulty with the weather, she shifts Lily to one arm and extends a hand his way, "Now -that- I can do something about, if you'd like? It should keep for about a day. I use it myself all the time."

"No, you're not." Cryo laughs, tucking her tail in and resisting the impulse to mimic the lewd pantomime. It might ruin her credibility, "So we are agreed, no jokes, no going off to serenade the Death Singing Dragon, and you will be careful with your drinking and further missions."

The palescale stands, moving to mirror the other palescale. Their resemblance is strong. She nods, "Oh you want her spell, it works wonders. I use it with Lily all the time."

Xochi has come off her nest to circle around Cryo and Faran, and finally assesses, "It's good, very convincing," she sniffs, "your scent is accurate." She prowls some more, circling Cryo's nest.

"Oh, certainly," Jinks accepts the offer by reaching up and taking the faux-makar's hand. "Coyote never seems interested in teaching me practical songs. Rather the more flamboyant influences on the Weave are His revealed purpose for me."

The gnome lingers long enough for the spell to be cast and then offers Cryosanthia the same lopsided smirk. "No jokes about -those things,-" he clarifies. "And I'll serenade the Harpist without courting Her... for a decade as was our bargain." He makes no comments on the drinking but offers the olive branch of putting away the flask for the time being.

The bard steps back for Xochi to make her inspection, smirk becoming a grin as he does so. "Life would be boring if I were too careful," he asides to Cryosanthia after a brief pause.

Faranmidahn nods with a wag of her tail as the offer is taken and she closes her eyes, chanting, "In Hunter's care and Nature's whim, ward the elements from this one's skin." <halfling>

There is a subtle, momentary tingle that washes along his body from their point of contact, then...

Comfort.

Neither too hot, for his layers, not too cold for the weather, as Faran's sorcery does it's work.

Her ruby eyes reopen and she asks, "How does that feel?"

The Faran-makar looks to Xochi as she is given the sniff test and, figuring 'why not?' returns it in kind.

She's had time and experience with Cryosanthia to get used to the different receptors in her current form's snout, noting the particular odors of the redscale, who starts to circle Cryo's nest.

Head cocking, she wonders, "Is... something wrong, miss Xochil?"

The redscale's scent are agitated, all the nest-mothers are on alert, but hers are the worst. She continues to prowl and pace, and hisses, "No. It iss fine." Her breathing is hard.

Lily squirms, and slides down Faran'makar to scramble around her Ssassa's nest and pat Xochi's tail. The kobold's voice is childlike, yet oddly authoritative, "Ssassa's eggss are fine. Your eggss are fine. Sssoon." She holds up a hand, "You ssshould eat a bug."

A centipede wriggles in her grip, it's her go-to solution.

Xochi snakes the squirming invertebrate then swallows it in one chomp. "Ssaaa." The kobold's prescription causing her to relax.

Cryo watches also, her scents wary and strong. She glances at the shadows where she knows the Egg-watchers lurk. There is movement but they do not emerge. Cryo says, "Yours will hatch first Xochi, this one is sure, your warmth will be more attractive than my cold."

Jinks closes his eyes to enjoy the pleasant sensation of the spell settling in. He slides over to his piled equipment and sloughs off his coat and the jacket beneath, then reaches up to open his vest and unbutton his silk shirt down past his sternum. The bandages he wears about his left breast and shoulder remain fixed as always but he pulls wide his collar and sighs. "Two-tonnes lighter, ser knight; you are a miracle worker..."

A hand goes for his flask but it's in the coat on the pile and so he shrugs, padding closer to Cryosanthia's nest. "... would you mind?" He wonders, humming quietly to himself and blowing light into a loose fist. He means to have a closer look at the eggs if allowed, and the shadows through the shells by merit of his playful motes of multi-hued light. "I don't mean to intrude but I'll admit to a consuming curiosity..."

Faran sounds a contented note at the vote of assurance from Jinks, nodding his way, "You're quite welcome, Master Jinks."

Something in the scents, though, is making her borrowed instincts tense, and her tail largely straightens behind her, though the tip starts to flick with some energy.

She glances to her sister, then eases closer to the redscale and she starts to sound the calming trill Cryosanthia's used around her so often. Now that she's had time to practice.

"This one doesn't see why everyone is always paying so much attention to you." Xochi tells Cryosanthia, her agitation rising. The whitescale has shifted, slightly, to close with Faran. She echoes her scale-sister's comforting trill, saying, "We're all getting attention, we're in this together."

"Xochi, come here," Tayanna, the black-scaled Egg-watcher emerges with the opened bag of snacks, "we'll talk about nutty nest-mothers. Have some dried fruits."

Lily has also read the scents on the air, and scuttles over to the red-scales nest, "Eggsss are noisssy. Lisssten."

The kobold and the Egg-Watcher are distracting enough to pull the red-scale away. Cryo looks down to answer Jinks, and finds her tail was curled protectively around him, blocking for both gnome and nest. She nods, short jerky motions, with a worried expression that isn't directed at him, "be careful, and pleasse, yess."

She continues to make a quiet trilling noise.

"Xochi, my dear, if I asked to look at your eggs you would punch me so hard the Harpist would have to find another gorgeous instrument to sing Her songs," Jinks soothes the savage warrior-caste with the sweetest smile. "And I'm quite fond of how my teeth are currently arranged in my head..."

There's a wave of the hand and some pointing, a lubricated conduction directing a band that doesn't need him, and the lights dance down to play by the eggs. Carefully-- bracing himself with one hand on Cryosanthia's tail -- the gnome gneels to have a look at the shadows inside of her eggs. "Coyote gave me a song to counter enchantments and compulsions," offers the gnome by way of non sequitur. "I thought He meant to test me with the geas I accepted..." his hair hangs down into the nest now as he holds his cheek near the ground to have a close look. "Turns out my spell can't counter the geas." A quiet snort of a laugh and he adds, "Coyote laughs."

The gnome marvels quietly at the budding lives for awhile, smiling and blinking. "... I can't believe you made these, Cryo."

"They are quite fetching where they sit." Faran agrees to the fellow's appraisal of his choppers. She looks at his antics with curiosity, before stepping toward the other mother as the Egg Watcher comes to help allay tension.

"Cryo and I have been through a great deal together, Miss Xochil." the Faux-makari explains, "I've considered asking after your exploits, but every time the notion strikes me.... you seem like you'd rather be left alone."

Cryosanthia stares at the shadow puppets of new lives, never thinking to use her own spells in that manner and fascinated at the results. Her curiosity is great, and then she squirms under the compliments, "Well... Tenoc helped. Still helps."

She rests a hand on her belly, "I guess I did most of the work."

Xochi has been drawn back to her nest, but like a bulldog refuses to let go. She is however, trapped in a maze of logic and reverse logic. She doesn't want the gnome near her nest, and he has said he doesn't want to come near, therefore, he must. She hisses, "You will check mine with the lights next!"

It's and order.

"Oooo! Do mine after hers!" Zama calls out. That's an invitation.

"This one has her own lights." Papalotl brags. Her nest has everything.

Faran'makar's request draws the redscale's attention. She focuses on her, nostrils flaring. Inhale, exhale. Another inhale and exhale, slower this time, "You can approach too. You can ask."

"This one is from Am'shere, near the sea. This one's village was attacked often." The redscale confides.

Jinks issues a quiet little exhale of amusement at Xochi's orders, sitting up and back onto his haunches. He sniffs and rubs the inside corner of his eye, then shifts to draw his thumb across as he clears his throat. "I know you wanted to help with... the Halls," he pauses and considers Lily briefly with wet eyes, "but I think this is the right choice. It's the sort of thing you'd regret missing."

The gnome stands and clears his throat again, dusting his knees and shins. "I'd imagine, anyway," he winks.

"Alright, tough-gal," announces the gnome, putting on a familiar and heavy coat of bluster as he approaches the redscale. "I swears if you punch me I'll curl up into a ball and you'll have to listen to me crying the whole night." He waves his fingers through the air, beckoning the dancing little dots of rainbow to follow along in his wake. "Let's have a look at the next generation of the strongest makari warriors Ea will see," he grins, recovered fully by the time he's standing near Faran and Xochi's nest.

Faranmidahn gives another smile to the redscale this time and she nods, hunkering down beside her as the things get to a more elaborative footing.

She glances back toward Jinks on his remarks, snerking a short chain of light, chuffing laughter at the banter, "He'll do it." she chirps playfully.

She winks a ruby eye his way, then looks up to her sister, then the other mothers, "My lights aren't as playful, I'm afraid."

Then, back to Xochil, "What was the village like?" she wonders.

"You're right, this one would have." Cryo says, crouching down to examine her nest. Her left hand loops through arcane gestures and a twinkling of lights swirl from her chest out along her arm to manifest into dancing lights that she uses to illume her eggs. Shown a trick, she can duplicate it. "It's not a thing to miss. Come see."

Xochi and Lily join Faran'makar in her crouch, surrounding the red-scale's nest to peer into her sphereoids. The shadows are lively, clearly moving in response to the light, tiny silhouettes of lizards on the cusp of emergence.

"It was made of rocks, this big." Xochi holds her hands about a head's width apart, "stacked into huts, covered with clay. Blue roofs, every one. Looking down the mountain, each was like a pool of the sea."

She growls, "the Nar-sektoth would climb out on story nights, drag us to the deeps." Her hands clench into claws, ready to rend. "Had to guard. Always. Could not take the fight to them."

Jinks hangs back at Xochi, Faranmidahn, and Lily all nestle down around the redscale's eggs. He contemplates for a moment squeezing in with the rest but it seems like two people paying her some attention has done enough to ease the warrior's jealousy for the moment. Ringed fingers dance and the lights respond, twisting through the air and pausing to imitate the constellations he was made to memorize as a child.

The gnome moves then to join Zama, smiling and lifting a hand in a lazy wave. "As requested, madame," he drawls out, affecting an aged butler even as he grins. The quartet of lights spiral as he nears, then he makes a sweeping gesture and the flare out, turning and twisting to cast their backlight on her eggs from four separate sources.

Faranmidahn glances to the side to see Jinks reorient, but her hand lifts, perhaps to pat the ground nearby, but settles back down. Perhaps she intuited his intention, or is simply deferring to his apparent change in focus.

In either case, she trusts him to know his way around these ladies, and her eyes refocus upon the redscale before they half close, "I can see it. Strong homes, with... trecherous foes...."

She strokes Lily's head with a glance the kobold's way, then, gently, "Beside the attacks. What was it like? How is it to have a place so dear that your clan stay for so very, very long?" there's a certain, understated wonder in her tone, a curiosity no doubt fuelled by the transitory nature of the Lucht Siuil as a people.

The brass scale gestures at the entrance to her nest, inviting Jinks in where few have been. Zama nests in a book fort, a hut made of bookcases with shelves inside and out, and books everywhere. Inside is even more bibliofanatic, with stacks scattered about and surrounding her nest. Some open books have been spread out between the eggs.

There is one thing of note, a small, dark shrine to her side and back. Not forgotten, but avoided, and no books are near. There is a dark chest beneath it. The bookwrym does not look it's way.

Instead, Zama crouches eagerly to watch the play of lights, and the shadowy future they reveal.

Xochi thumps her chest, and nods to the albino palescale. Her scents have normalized, although Tayanna remains close and watchful. "It was beautiful, the fish plentiful. The houses whether any storms. The defenses were tight, we had many traps. Warrior-Caste and Hunter-Caste lived lowest, near to the water, to fend off attacks. Families much higher on the hill. In the summer on a clear day the sea stretched out forever, and the day passed with the buzzing of insects."

Cryo listens, and watches, and also crawls into her nest to curl up around her eggs. Lying on her side she guides her lights around them, pulling up cozies and then replacing them as she assures herself they are well. She sees them with the gnome's expressed wonder, and her heart blossoms with joy.

They are beautiful works. Tranquil, for now.

Jinks doesn't know Zama terribly well. They've talked, certainly, but she's usually someone off to one side surrounded by her books when the gnome comes to look in on Cryosanthia-- and he hasn't done that terribly-often, recently. He's polite, though, and lingers through the duration of the spell, humming a simple melody to see if he can stir the egg's inhabitants and transform them into shadow dancers. He thanks the makari mother-to-be for her gracious invitation and finds his way out from between the wall of books.

Outside, he stops and takes a steadying breath. There's a faint, self-deprecating smile as he considers the night sky above Mictlan, and then he's lowering his gaze to his piled belongings. The muscles in his jaw work and the gnome hosts some internal debate.

Booted footfalls are quiet when he walks back towards the whitescale's nest. There's a thin, humorless smile of greeting and he walks a circuit, sitting to rest his back against the familiar sith-makar's. He draws his knees up and lowers his head to just sit in silence for awhile. Close but out of sight.

Faranmidahn bobs her head twice in response to Xochil's thumping, while her tail beats a couple of times against the soil, and her eyes close.

A sigh, "It sounds.... nice... plentiful, no wonder you defended it, so fiercely." she muses thoughtfully.

Ruby eyes reopen and she adds, "I've seen the ocean after coming to Alexandria..." Her head cocks a moment and she blinks, "I can tell you about Gobdalac, sometime..."

"This one would like to hear." Xochi says firmly, staring at Faran and settling down onto her nest. Lily has scampered off to crawl into Cryo's, joining the other palescale and bookending her Ssassa with the gnome. She's cold, but both are benefiting from the endure elements, and that works well enough for enduring Cryosanthia as well.

The whitescale exhales, happily settling into place and closing her eyes. The other Nest-Mothers are doing the same.

The redscale adds simply, "In the morning." It's not exactly an invitation, but she also doesn't tell the albino sith to leave.

They wait for sleep, with the watchers watching.

Ghoulish cp line.png

OOC


<OOC> Jinks says, "She took Lily to the Sea of Shattered Time!"
<OOC> Cryosanthia says, "NUUUuu!"
<OOC> Cryosanthia says, "she'll come back older than me!"
<OOC> Faranmidahn's granddaughter comes back with Lily.
<OOC> Cryosanthia says, "But when did you...?"
<OOC> Cryosanthia says, "You aren't even thinking of dating!"
<OOC> Faranmidahn says, "There are haflings out there"
<OOC> Cryosanthia says, "I've only seen one, and he wears boots"
<OOC> Faranmidahn is almost the only Lucht in Alexandria
<OOC> Jinks says, "Maybe she'd even settle for a quarterling if he's charming enough."
<OOC> Faranmidahn says, "naah, quarterlings tend to require assembly."
<OOC> Cryosanthia says, "Tommy, Pasithea, other halflings I'm aware of"
<OOC> Jinks says, "Just like there are other gnomes but they almost all belong to the same person and Jinks never interacts with them. ;)"
<OOC> Faranmidahn nods, "The elusive male."
<OOC> Cryosanthia says, "half-half-ling half-tief-ling, quarter double-ling!"
<OOC> Jinks says, "Half-tief, Will Travel, a tale of forbidden, furry-footed romance."
<OOC> Cryosanthia says, "I am kind of surprised Acedia doesn't have a halfling"


<OOC> Cryosanthia says, "wasn't planning that but it was there"
<OOC> Cryosanthia says, "I hope the scene was ok, it felt weak"
<OOC> Cryosanthia says, "like, my side was weak"
<OOC> Cryosanthia says, "me and the other mothers. I don't know."
<OOC> Cryosanthia hugs, "thanks for RP, catch ya."