The One That Got Away

Log Info

• Title: The One that Got Away
• Emitter: Aryia
• Characters: Aryia, Aya
• Place: Alexandrian Shipyards
• Time: April 27th. 2022
• Summary: Aryia is busy putting up the sails on her boat as Aya seeks her out. She's brought up to speed on the current hunt, as well as the encounter thereof and its casualties. Musing and reassurance follow, as well as some iota of an idea of what to do next, in addition to an invitation to a small abode.

Alexandrian Shipyards, Noon.

It's a sunny day with a few fair weather clouds lazily drifting in the sky. The breeze is fair and the heat welcome in the cold waters.

One boat rocks to and fro on the waters, a scarred, grey skinned elf hanging off the rigging up to the sails upside down by her legs. The sloop they're working on has a set of gaff sails on a singular wooden mast in the center, with the front sail white hue, and the other dyed black as night. The hull is a sandy brown wood with a white painted railing, with the deck mostly cleared out save for essential sailing supplies and tools. A number of wooden poles jut from the deck, with sacks of cotton and straw tied to the poles.

There’s a small hold that’s accessed by a trapdoor behind the mast, its innards a cramped space of sleeping hammocks and food supplies.

Both sides of the hull on the bow has it’s name painted in a bright eggshell color: ‘The Balance’.

The captain is in the process of finishing up the black sail, a thick cord being woven in and out of the rivets.

Sunny. Some would find this pleasant, or welcoming. Others might find it annoying. The mul'niessa walking the dock and eventually spying the other dangling from the rigging finds it... somewhere in between, if her expression is any indication. It is neutral enough to appear no different even upside down.. at least until she looks up/down to Aryia, and it curls slightly. For the moment, she does not call out and merely observes the vessel and updates to it.

If the mute captain spotted their sibling, she made no indication of it, her being wholly focused on the task at hand. Once the last ties of the sails were put in taut, she grabs a dangling rope and holds on, releasing herself to slowly fall down, down, down to the deck. The rope furls the sail upwards, and the sailor ties it off onto a piton on the side.

She dusts her hands off, looking up at the sails with a pleased expression on her visage.

No indication of spotting Aya, must be far too focused on that task at hand.

"Is that how all sails are unfurled," Aya now calls to inquires with a hint of wry and lifting brow, "or are you making an impressive spectacle intentionally, sister?" She waits for the line to be tied before following with, "Permission to come aboard?"

Aryia flinches from the sudden voice, her pivoting on a heel briskly. She blinks behind her shades, then snorts, shaking her head and beckoning the fellow mul over.

The mute's in a tank top, covered in a bit of sawdust and some eggshell white paint as she leans against one of the wooden poles sticking out of the deck. "I like to have fun with it," she excuses with a gesture, smiling. <Handspeech>

That sparks a flicker of smile from Aya as she hops from dock to deck. "Good. You deserve to. From the look of the ship, you have done quite well." Not that she is an expert on the matter. A pause and an exhale that drains the prior flash of mirth completely and into the negative. "I cannot claim the same."

Aryia flashes a thumbs up. "Thanks!" she motions, crossing her arms as she leans against the padded training pole.

Her head tilts to the side in that curious, if slightly concerned, way. She gives a sigh and gets onto her footing proper. "... alright, who's ass am I kicking." <Handspeech>

Aya considers that question a moment before rolling one shoulder. "Mine. The fiend we hunt is not longer in the city." A breath. "I sent it back to the Iron Hells." In many contexts, one might think this would be a good thing.

The mute's head tilts the other way. Parsing.... She pouts slightly. "Oh. Well.. uh, isn't that a good thing? It's hard to get out of there."

A beat to realize. A palm smacks firmly against her face. "... for fuck's sake, it's not dead, and we're going to have to go down into that hole and kill it, aren't we."

The mere thought makes her scarred visage pale slightly. <Handspeech>

Aya's pursed lips deepen into a frown. "It may be gone for some time, but it will return. We took it alive. I do not know how to destroy one, utterly, and presumed the temple would. They did not, and I could not allow it to wake and escape to threaten others..."

Aryia groans silently, her head lulling back as she crosses her arms. Taps her foot. Eyes close. A breath In. Out. "Ok. So time is bought. What can it do when you fought it? And where do you think we should start looking on how to end it permenantly?" Focusing less on the complication, and more on the finding a solution. <Handspeech>

"I did not subdue it," Aya admits, which does not improve matters in the slightest. "Halani felled it, was wise enough to restain her strikes." As for the question, she scowls more deeply. "I do not know. Perhaps one of the archmagi would have insight. I was a fool. So concerned with hunting it I ignored what should be done once it was caught."

Aryia listens attentively, but she sighs and shakes her head. "I could ask a Mourner I know. They might know a thing or two. But that still doesn't, you know, answer the 'how does the demon fight' thing. I've only fought copies, and the demon was pulling it's punches trying to stop me from jabbing your soul back. So... I don't know it's full breadth of capabilities." <Handspeech>

It is now Aya's turn to pause. Inhalation. Exhalation. "It altered itself to appear as me. It fought as me. It ... murdered Mikilos as me." Something that seems to be becoming a rather unnerving trend.

Aryia opens her mouth to voice surprise. Then her jaw clacks shut. Opens once more, like a fish, then closed again. She presses her palms together and exhales slowly between them.

She holds up a finger. Steps over to one of the training poles.

There's a brisk speed of her fist snapping out and impacting against the softened target, a flare of bright moonlight bursting out as it impacts. The boat rocks once before wobbling back into place.

A breath Out. Back to her sister. "Well shit. I guess we can... get Seyardu to bring him back? Fuck..."

She slaps her cheeks, then makes a few motions in front of her that translate to 'focus, focus, focus'. "So it copies what it sees, and can do what it can of the copy?" <Handspeech>

Aya shakes her head. "No, I do not believe so. It knows -me-, seeks to torment -me-. It may still hold some part of me." In hindsight, she waxes thoughtful as this would explain some of that celestial spirit's words, and perhaps the task. "It " - she refuses to grant it her pronoun - " claimed that I will never be rid of it."

Aryia, still reeling that it took out someone she held in somewhat moderate respects, lets out a breath as her foot plays with the iron ring that connects to the trapdoor by booting it repeatedly. >Clang< >Clang< >Clang<

"So it fights like you. Fuck..."

A beat. She grows thoughtful as well. "Holds a part of you. May never be rid of it..."

The mute pivots to Aya, head tilted to the side. "What part of you, before all of this, do you think it might be attached to?"

A moment of afterthought. "What part of you do you think you need to let go?" <Handspeech>

Aya refocuses upon Aryia from her musings. "I do not know what it may hold, but it -knows- me, it ... was me until you drove it out. That may be why it must be destroyed, to sever that connection?" A sighed exhalation. "I do not know." An admission she abhors. "So we must learn what we must, what we can. I will see Mikilos restored. Perhaps he can learn and share more."

After a pause, she shifts to, "It is not the victory I wished to share with you, but it is a reprieve? More time for us to arm ourselves, for you and Daechir to not be threatened." It is something, at least?

Aryia rubs the side of her face, eyes closed. Nodding along. "Perhaps some introspection then. To find out what it's latching on to before we drive it out."

She takes a step forward and loops an arm around her sister's shoulder. "It's a reprieve. And time bought. Thank you for facing it, though I am a /little/ saddened I wasn't there to bash its face in. Next time though."

The arm gives a little squeeze. "See to it, get him living. At this rate, he's going to have a punch card filled out for a free one, right?" she tries to joke. <Handspeech>

Aya did tentatively shift to optimism, and feels less daring for it with her sister's arm and squeeze. Aryia can feel rigidity of stature return to Aya as she nods. "I would have you with me. The fiend happened upon us unexpectedly. He did not move when he should have." A hint of a jest, though only to counter some of the frustration at the fact of it.

Aryia gives a small sigh and retracts her arm, just to give Aya a pat on the back. "Yeah, mages tend to not like to be told what to do..." she agrees before rubbing her arm. A huff, a mote of focus, and a sharp nod. "Right. My boat is pretty much done, just have to stock it. Just hit me up at my house or here-"

A blink.

"... you haven't been to my place. Right. I'll invite you over some day soon." <Handspeech>

Aya manages a more emphatic smile to that. "I would be delighted. Should I bring Daechir? He would welcome an opportunity to view more than his own walls." Without immediate fear (from him or Aya), that is, though that goes unsaid.

Aryia bobs her head. "Sure, can bring him along. I'll just have to let... ahm, Violet know ahead of time."

A pause. "Yes, it's still the same woman. It's just there are some forces at play that its safer to be a persona than reality."

She shakes her head. "But yes, come over. I'll make tea."

And that, she gives a proper grin. <Handspeech>

-End Scene-