A braid, meditation and cards

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Revision as of 14:28, 1 September 2023 by Petros (talk | contribs) (Created page with " Temple District, Midday A wind blows from the west, weaving through the Temple Square. It chases away dark clouds above, making a break in a blue sky. Bringing with it a chill, an echo of autumn to come. Despite this, a heavily scarred Mul'neissa woman exits the Temple of Eluna in nothing more than a tank top and pants, a contemplative look on her face. She looks up to the sky, staring at the moon hanging high. Almost like she was asking something silently before sha...")
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Temple District, Midday

A wind blows from the west, weaving through the Temple Square. It chases away dark clouds above, making a break in a blue sky. Bringing with it a chill, an echo of autumn to come.

Despite this, a heavily scarred Mul'neissa woman exits the Temple of Eluna in nothing more than a tank top and pants, a contemplative look on her face. She looks up to the sky, staring at the moon hanging high. Almost like she was asking something silently before shaking her head and throwing a verdant buckle jacket over her shoulder. A free hand slides her shades back on, blocking the midday sun from her night-thriving eyes.

The Gobbo is not really enjoying the wind, as her hair has grown to epic proportions. And it flaps magnificently in said wind. Simony wobbles back and forth due to this, and her expression is one of irritation.

She makes it to the fountain, and settles down on the edge of the fountain, peering into the splashing water.

The Gobbo blinks, "Oooh!" She dunks a hand in and retrieves a silver coin. "Wow, this is old. Dragonier?"

Aryia takes another breath, seemingly attempting to center herself about something or another before her boots thud down the stairs.

A streak of white hair catches her attention, the mute's heel stamping a hard stop as she stares on. Executing a left face, she approaches from the Temple of Eluna, her kneeling down and observing the long hair naught but just a few feet away as a wave of perplexion is on her visage.

The coin is carefully tossed back into the pool, and she thhhppts as her hair is blown into her face. Simony struggles a moment to get it out of her face, and spots the perplexed Aryia. Her fingers blur as she signs. "Hi Aryia! How are you doing?" Her eyes flick to her hair, and she giggles. "Yes, it's grown back! So how've you been?" <Handspeech>

Aryia just tilts her head to one side, then the other. Before she gives a thumbs up. For what? It looks good? A hello? A confirmation- the thumbs up turns into a mild wave. Perhaps a compliment. Or confirmation. Who knows with her?

She looks about the square before looking back to Simony with a raised brow. "Conflicted. What are you doing here?" <Handspeech>

Her eyes widen and then squint as she tries to make sense of Aryia's signs. "Conflicted? What about? Anything I could help you with? Or is it far too personal to ask about?"

Simony rubs at her chin. "Telamon made a tincture which I rubbed onto my head, this is three days of growth!"

"And uhm... I just wanted to get out of the monastery. The road leads to here, so, thought I'd sit a while, and ponder a few things." <Handspeech>

Aryia shakes her head. "You wouldn't get it. You're not Mul'neissan," she gestures slowly. "But the what's and how's aren't for me to say in public."

She tilts her head the other way. "Interesting. You need to braid it. I can braid it if you need to, my sister's is longer than that."

A blink. The Stare. "Like?" <Handspeech>

Her gasp is quickly followed by broad smile, and she nods enthusiastically. "Please? I tried myself, but it is hard to do for one's self. Especially for hair this long. I... might have to have it cut, too." Simony stands and approaches Aryia. "I can't speak on it, I am sworn to an oath of silence, but uhm, if you've heard the rumours lately about one of our mutual friends, it is that I am mulling over."

Aryia nods once, stepping forward and bundling up all the hair. And with... incredibly deftness- and a tinge of smarting- the long white hair is briskly weaved into a simple braid.

As she goes, there's a faint hiss and pop of someone whispering with no sound to back it. "-t's b-llsh-t," Aryia hisses simply. Ties off the end with a spare ribbon in her jacket pocket, and releases it.

She pulls away. "But whatever. You answered. I'm conflicted because I feel empathy for something I tend to not give a fuck about." She finishes with jabbing a thumb over her shoulder at Eluna's temple. <Handspeech>

The Gobbo makes a few small noises of complaint as her hair is briskly weaved into a braid. Her hands run up and down, and she swings her head back and forth. She hops up and down, clapping. "Thank you very much!" Simony's ears perk up as Aryia's seldom used voice makes itself heard.

Her grin brightens. "It is why I have a vow of silence. Cor'lana was targeted the other day by some nasty gossips, but Slixvah and I were close by and we stood up for her. There were three murders... verbally. The cherry on top..." The Gobbo's stomach gurgles. "Was Ravens miming a spell casting, and Slix and I acted horrified and jumped out of the way. They ran, nearly in tears."

Aryia leans back slightly as the braid whips around, avoiding a rogue swing idly. "Don't whip yourself in the eye. You're welcome I guess."

She furrows her brows. "Funny. But if you have a vow of silence, then shut the fuck up about it," Aryia gestures a bit firmly. It seems like the funny story doesn't particularly land with the mute. "But good on you for defending her." <Handspeech>

"I suppose it might be dangerous now, since there's so much of it.", the Gobbo says with a snort.

She winces slightly at the reprimand, and she nods, peering down at the ground.

"So it sounds like you've not changed your mind about something, but that you've experienced something that's made you hmmm, doubt's not the right word... made you think about your stance on this particular think you don't normally give a fuck about."

The swear word is enunciated, as if she relished saying it."

Aryia nods once. "My sister smacks me with hers." The reprimand doesn't faze her. It was necessary.

She quirks a brow at the way the swear is used, but she looks back to the temple. A long pause comes from her. Thinking. Pondering.

No. Reflecting. "I used to be a Taaran Priestess, a very long time ago." Wait what. "But then I cared for none. None listened to me when I needed them. Now I've met one. Played cards with them. After Taara lost her grip on Mul'neissa, I feel... something. For the gods. It's not pity. I cannot place it yet. I have to reflect on it."

Simony takes a few steps back, glances around, and then begins whipping her hair back and forth. She yelps as her hair curls around her and thumps her in the behind a few times.. "Oow, okay... that stings a little."

She waits patiently while the Mul'neissa considers her thoughts and words. Her eyes widen at the first thing out of Aryia's mouth, and they are akin to saucers near the end.

"An adherent of Taara.", she says quietly, barely above a whisper. "And played cards with a god?" The Gobbo snorts, "You are full of surprises, Aryia. And amazing. If and when you are willing to talk more deeply about it, I would listen. And I could speak about my experiences talking and praying to my god, if it would be helpful."

Aryia snorts as Simony whips herself with the braid, seeing that coming. "Was," she motions once, sharply making that distinction. "Now I know she's a lying bitch. She looks at Simony. "You can if you want, I already know what that's like. I just don't really... I don't feel strongly about any of that. I do not need them to guide me. I've relied on myself to understand myself for seventy years, and I'll keep doing just that," she admits in the middle of one of the holiest places on Ea. <Handspeech>

The Gobbo holds up her hands, "Yes, former adherent. It was not a judgement but surprising." She nods gently, her expression thoughtful.

"Truly, I would posit that the gods do appreciate people like you. Self reliance is cherished and worthy of such. And frankly, if you do ask of a particular god, they would take notice, because you have explored and exhausted all options before turning to them."

"Is it really?" Aryia asks with a raised brow. "I'm a pragmatic bitch from Charn."

She bobs her head along, taking a long exhale. "Tell me that a year ago and I'd have punched you. But I agree that they'd appreciate it my tenacity. Especially Angoron. Maybe Kor. Serriel."

Her eye twitches. "No. That's naive. I prostrated myself before everything. Gods of Shadow. Twilight. Light," she counts off on her fingers. "Angels. Fiends. Inveitables. Chaos. The Void. Beyond. Everything when I was in those fucking pits-"

She pauses, realizing she was getting worked up as her signs were moving faster, a snarl drawing on her lips. The mute closes her eyes. Takes a deep breath In.

Out. "The only thing I had at my lowest was myself. And that's never failed me since." <Handspeech>

Simony lets out a low breath, a soft sigh, and she nods. "I cannot ignore your experience, you lived it. But I would point to something you have said just now. You cared for no one, and no one cared for you. Then Taara lost her grip on you, and your people. And now you feel something. Could it be that Taara prevented you from being heard? She is spiteful, is she not? If you turned away from her, it stands to reason she would prevent you from contacting those powerful beings, does it not?" Another little sigh escape the Gobbo. "I am sorry that you were alone."

Aryia keeps her breath pointedly even, slow inhales and exhales keeping her composed. Save for her brows knitting. Another deep breath breaks the rhythm, and she kneels down to get eye level with the gobbo. "Wrong. I did not leave her. She left /me/," she motions. "During all that strife, I only had my emotions. I cared about living. About getting out of Charn. About myself. And at the base of it all was spite. I want to live to spite everything that ignored me and tried to put me down. I may have been afraid, but, fuck, deep down. I was, and still am, so. Fucking. Angry."

She clinches her fist. For the first time for Simony, something appears on the marred flesh. Faint lines of moon hued light traces down her arm and slowly collect at her fist. "Everything I can do, others helped me, or I learned it myself. Not a god. Not a church. Not some blind master. So maybe they couldn't hear me. It doesn't matter back then. My emotions were the same. But now I sort of... understand some things. On a level that I cannot really explain. And I have to let this... anger, go."

She looks at Simony, glowing eyes peering over her shades. "Do not feel sorry for me. Just understand I have gone through a lot of things. And I do not want others to repeat that fate. <Handspeech>

The Gobbo goes still, her ears straightening. Her head bobs slowly, but stops as the glow shows up, flowing down to the Mul's fist. "Okay. I don't feel sorry for you. I do have sympathy for you. You went through hell, literally, and you've come out the other side."

Her expression is thoughtful. "Two questions. What will you do to help you let go of your anger? And how long have you been able to do that...?"

Simony gestures to the white glowing fist.

Aryia nods slowly in approval. "Good. I'm fine with that. Just, the things that I have been through... I refuse to bend. Ever." Her fist clenches taut, muscles bulging as The Stare is piercing.

A breath In.

Out.

The tension releases smoothly, the glow abating. "I don't know," she motions the answer to the first question. "I have to meditate on it, and catch myself like that when I'm agitated."

The second question... A... is that a smirk? "For a while. I don't use everything in my arsenal when I'm training you and others. I can make my strikes burst light and blind enemies. I can throw magic off. I can shatter walls. I can stop feeling pain. I can move so fast the Sea of Mana breaks down and teleports me."

She's smirking. <Handspeech>

Simony nods slowly. "I understand. And meditation is a good way to deal with anger and cluttered thoughts. Does it work for you, you find yourself keeping control with it? It seems like it is working. I mean, you haven't bashed me to a pulp. Yet." A brief smile before she continues. "So. A... uhm, another question comes to mind. It is interesting that you were coming from the direction of Eluna's temple."

"It works for me. If it didn't couldn't do any of what I do. Like I always tell you all: half the fight is mental," Aryia elaborates before giving a minor snort. "I won't subject you to that. Besides, if I'm in a situation where I have to do pull all the stops out, your pale ass needs fucking run away."

She quirks her head to the side, glancing to the temple of Eluna. "What about it?" <Handspeech>

The Gobbo puts her arms behind her, a hand clasping the other. "Do you feel a connection to her? I hear there is a large, reflecting pool in there, though I haven't been inside to see for myself. Perhaps some meditation in Her home might provide some insight?"

Simony grins faintly once more, "And I most certainly would try to run, but uhm..." She gestures to Aryia's legs. "You're legs are so much longer, I don't think I can outrun you on these stubby little things." She gestures to her own legs, hidden under the robes of her faith.

Aryia brings her hands up. "I-" she hesitates. "-have a connection to her in a loose way. Some of my abilities are of the moon. I do use that reflecting pool on occasion, it's quiet in there. But I don't... feel particularly drawn towards her. Like, I acknowledge that she might have done something for me a long time ago, but I don't feel anything. Shit, the closest one I'd give half a nod towards is Vardama since I /met/ her."

She lightly smiles at that. Remembering something.

She looks down at Simony. Lightly smiles. "If there's one thing I learned in all my years: you can /always/ run faster. Leg length doesn't matter. I'm shorter than most people." <Handspeech>

She giggles, "What, is the question... can I run faster scared than you can angry?" Simony strokes her chin, contemplating something. "Maybe if I bit you in the knee, that might give me some time for a head start..." Snorting, she giggles again before her expression becomes more serious.

"Oh. Well, have you tried talking or praying to Eluna? And Vardama's temple is up that way." The Gobbo gestures up Mountain Road. "If... you didn't know already, that is. You could try praying and talking to Vardama. Nothing serious, but uhm, for Eluna you could offer thanks, if you feel she helped you in some way. For Vardama... maybe offer her another card game, just for funsies?"

Aryia doesn't have a response to that, save for an all summarizing 'pffft', eyes rolling good naturedly.

And this is where their philosophies differ. The mute raises a brow. "I don't see a point in it. I've thanked Vardama for giving me my sister back. I thank Eluna by using what is probably associated with her. No. This disturbance, change, and anger within me is for me alone to figure out. I appreciate your suggestion, but that is not how I do things. Works for you. Not for me."

She stares at Simony for a moment before throwing her jacket on, pulling the sleeves down. "I got shit to do. Keep the ribbon."

A pause. "... thanks for the talk. It... helped." Finding that sufficient, she gives a sharp nod and backs up a step towards a building. Crouches. And leaps up a couple of stories to land atop the roof before tearing down towards the docks, leaping to clear entire buildings until she hops down something- out of sight. <Handspeech>