For Want of Family

Log Info

• Title: For Want of Family
• Emitter: Aryia
• Characters: Aryia, Ravenstongue, Cesran
• Place: The TarRaCe
• Time: Decebmer 9th, 2021
• Summary: At the TarRaCe, Ravenstongue is showing Grandfather around the city, namely a gathering place for most folk. She runs into Aryia there, and gets to meet the proxy raven. Just as Ravenstongue is about to explain further, Cesran shows up with urgent news of Aya. Everything else fades away for Aryia, and she bursts into tears at hearing her sister is alive. There's a flurry of a back and forth between wizard and pugilist, Aryia offering what she can to help kick start any leads she may have to aid in recovering the missing shadow walker. Cesran leaves after Aryia provides a sentimental item for him, and the remaining two (well, four, counting the birds) get some tea. In better spirits, Aryia asks to be filled on on this development from Ravenstongue. Grandfather, the proxy raven for Ravenstongue's ancestor, explains about some his lineage forgetting about him in more recent times. As well as how Ravenstongue's parents... uh, handled Grandfather. Which was poorly. He's actually a pretty nice guy. Ravenstongue shows the Mark that she received, and Aryia approves. Aryia gives some parting encouragement, and fades away.

The TarRaCe, afternoon.

It's a calm day at the TarRaCe, with the weather turning to snow and ice. Many take advantage of the bathhouse, and one that was a frequenter to such a place was none other than a scarred mul'neissa woman. She comes out, fresh with her hair still wet and let down. She's in no rush, slowly making her way through the main room.

One door into the establishment swings open from the cold and icy outside. The person guilty of stepping in happened to be someone familiar to the scarred woman: the half-elf Ravenstongue, and, well, her familiar /familiar/, Pothy--

Wait one second. Are there two of them? A raven with violet eyes sits on her shoulder, looking around at the environment. Ravenstongue merrily chats away to him.

"And this is the TarRaCe, another popular haunt in town. It's a bar and bathhouse--oh, there's my friend Aryia! Hi!" Ravenstongue waves to Aryia.

Curiously, so does the black raven on her shoulder. "Good evening," he says, his voice melodious and deep.

Aryia pulls the towel off her shoulders and ruffles her hair with it, getting some of the water out as she picks up a familiar voice. She peers over, a brow raised. Followed by a hand-

Torch bright eyes blink. Wait. Oh no, now there's two of them! "Hi. Please tell me the new one doesn't scream," she gestures slowly, eyeing the new bird with suspicion.

Ravenstongue snickers a little. "No. He's not like Pothy, not at all. Long story, but... meet Grandfather."

The black raven tilts his head in an oddly humanoid manner as he regards Aryia. "Aryia, was it?" he asks. "I am pleased to see little Cor'lana has so many friends. The market stall vendors treated her and Pothy like royalty. What meaty treat will she offer us, dear Pothy friend?" he asks with a sort of wry humor to the white raven on Ravenstongue's opposite shoulder.

"Snacks!" Pothy says, getting riled up at the mention of food.

This makes Ravenstongue giggle. "No, no, I'm not /friends/ with the market stall owners, Grandfather. Just friendly. There's a difference. Aryia's a friend. --He's learning about the mortal world," she says to Aryia, lowering her voice a little.

"Fascinating. I wasn't aware of such complexities in the way mortals interact with each other," Grandfather murmured quietly. At least he wasn't loud like his pale feathered friend.

Aryia is... intruiged, her tilting her head to the side as the black raven speaks. She strides closer, the scarred woman trying to read the violet eyed corvid as he speaks. "Grand... father? But he's a bird. That's not how-" she makes some crude gestures with a circle and a finger- "works."

She shakes her head, then glares at Pothy. "No. I don't give him food. You're lucky I don't have a headache, bird brain."

She raises a brow, looking between Grandfather bird and Ravenstongue- or Cor'lana, in this case. "So... he's a magic bird, too? The only thing not mortal I've dealt with is demons."

She settles her gaze on the violet eyed bird. "... I punch them for breakfast." <handspeech>

"Well, this isn't /actually/ him," Ravenstongue explains. "He's in Quelynos, and with everything going on, we decided trying to make it so he can visit the city himself wasn't wise. So he sent a messenger instead. He can see, speak, and hear through their eyes."

"Ah! I think I know that gesture," Grandfather says, a little too proud of himself. "It means--"

"Haha, yeah, that's great, Grandfather," Ravenstongue says, clearing her throat, her cheeks beginning to flush crimson and trying /desperately/ to not get him to reveal what he knows about the meaning of crude gestures. "How /do/ you know Handspeech anyway?"

The violet-eyed raven seems rather proud of himself. "One of your ancestors was mute from birth, little one. I learned quickly. There is nothing too small to learn when it comes to any of my beloved children."

...At least he didn't seem to warrant punching like a demon might.

Aryia grins, her resting on her back foot as she got the reaction out of Ravenstongue that she wanted. But she sighs, resting on her back foot. "I don't know what a Q-U-L... whatever is. But yes, that is a good idea."

She looks between the two as they talk, her lips quirking sideways. "... so... this is your long lost grandfaher? Was this why all those birds were following you everywhere? Because he was trying to talk to you or something?" For as crude as she is, the mute was remarkably sharp. <Handspeech>

Cesran walks into the TaRaCe having landed his carpet of flying outside and it's rolled up on his backpack. He seems to be looking around and he holds Ral'sara up high so she can see above people, "There she is. To the left...no your other left.' The staff tries to give directions as Cesran tries makes his way towards Aryia and Ravenstongue. "Please move!" She calls out to a giantborn who steps in the way and fronts at being yelled at by the staff. Cesran clears his throat as he lowers Ral'sara, "Sorry about her. She can be a little rude when she's in a hurry I apologize and you can tell the bar to put your next drink on my tab, they know I'm good for it." He says as he side steps the giantborn and makes his way towards Aryia and Ravenstongue. "Hello, how are you two doing?" He bows his head politely, "Aryia I have news of Aya."

"Well, ancestor, but yes--it turns out things were a lot better than I ever thought they could have gone," Ravenstongue begins to say, but when Cesran arrives with news about Aya, the thought stops in its tracks, her eyebrow going up in a bit of confusion. "Has something happened to Aya?" she asks.

"Good evening, sir," the black raven with violet eyes on her shoulder says politely to Cesran.

"Oh. That's good to hear, compared to whatever lady you were complaining about before." Aryia is listening to Ravenstongue, nodding along as she talks, but her long ears pick up a familiar wizard and staff calling over the crowd. She swivels over, her blinking and raising a hand in greeting.

"I'm good, headache is better now, how are y-"

The mute stills. And then her hands move as fast as the punches that deliver swift death. "Tell me. Tell me now. Please."

This is one of the rare time's Ravenstongue has seen this side of Aryia, she looks almost like her entire world just came to a standstill. Her eyes are focused on the wizard, jumping about his face for any tell, and forewarning of news. "Aya vanished months ago. I... I've been holding onto hope that my sister is... still..."

Please come back. <Handspeech>

"She's alive, but she is in Charn." Cesran says as he leans in close as saying that nation's name out loud in a crowded place is not always a good idea. "I have used my magic to location her, but all I could get is the country that she is in. The last I knew of Aya she had been transformed by Eclavdran, I had hoped his defeat would bring her back and perhaps it has, but unfortunately has been trapped there. I do not know something blocked my magic and the only thing that can do that is a mind blank spell or divine intervention. I'm leaning towards the latter." He turns his attention to the black raven with violet eyes that speaks to him, "Good evening to you sir. I am Cesran and this is Ral'sara." He introduces his staff who bows her dragon-like head, "Good evening."

"Curious," the violet-eyed black raven says, tilting his head in, again, a rather humanoid fashion. "I did not realize mortals had artifacts such as that. Such things are common among the nobility, but--"

"We should probably let them talk, Grandfather," Ravenstongue says, putting a finger to her lips. "This concerns the fate of someone else I know. I would like to listen."

Aryia's mind completely blanked at everything else after the first two words. Explanations washed over and ebbed away. The crowded bar was nothing more than white noise. Those two words pinned themselves firmly in her mind.

She's.

Alive.

And everything snapped back into place.

The pugilist blinks a few times. The first in disbelief. The second in perplexion. The third to clear the tears the built and fell. She slowly leans forward until her head lightly rests against the wizard's frame.

"Alive. She's... she's alive," a trembling hand brushes against her collar over and over. Her shoulders shake, quiet little sniffles and sobs coming from the scarred mul'neissa. "I knew it... I knew it..."<Handspeech>

Cesran puts his arm around Aryia and he gently pats her shoulder. He looks very uncomfortable as he does not know what to do with a crying woman, especially one that could break him in two if she wanted to, "Yes and I will work to get her back, she sacrificed much to save a friend's daughter. I will do all in my power to help." He sighs, "I don't have any contacts though where she is, if you knew of where we could start or knew of someone that might know of someone."

Aryia continues to softly cry in Cesran's arm, her wiping at her face. Yet still it couldn't cease the droplets that flowed. Not for too long, though, as she finally gets a grip on herself, and takes a steeling breath. She slowly pulls away, her face a mess. Though, she looked relieved. So, so relieved. She had been holding out hope for so long, that doubt had started to creep in. And to get validation on her intuition was a world's weight off her shoulders.

And then, a request. On something she could more than likely help with. She gives a shuddering sigh, and nods sharply. Tucking her bottom lip behind her teeth, she sighs through her nose. "Thank you so much, Cesran. It... it means so much to me that you did all that to try and find her."

She closes her eyes, and thinks. Hard. "... Charn," she slowly motions. "She's.... been trained by The Tryant's forces. I think. And I think she's from Aby'ssa. Same city as me. You could try Aby'ssa, maybe? But... be careful there. It's really dangerous."

Another thought, then she looks off to the side, frowning some. "... D-A-E-C-H-I-R. He was a mul'neissa that had paired up with Aya briefly before she... traded herself. But, he's dead. By E's hand through Aya. And he's been dead for some time. He might know something. Aside from that, I don't know what else. I don't know her full name, so I can't point you in that direction either..." <Handspeech>

She snaps a finger. "I think Lily has her brooch, if you need that for scrying or whatever." <Handspeech>

Cesran doesn't move away, but he shifts so that no one else outside of him and Ravenstongue can see Aryia cry. He doesn't want her to be embarrassed that anyone else saw her cry and if asked he'd never admit it. He waits for Aryia to regain her composure and he watches her hands, "You are welcome. Aya has been my companion on adventures and I know she is a good person. I will try there although as you said it is very dangerous. I will talk with Verna, she is a cleric of the Grey Harpist, perhaps she can be of some help." He ahs, "I was going out to speak with Cryosanthia soon. I will see if having something that was Aya's helps. Thank you, these are all solid leads."

Aryia gives a warbled smile. She didn't care if others saw her cry at the moment. Her sister was ALIVE! No amount of embarrassment could compare to that life giving fact. And seeing Cesran already composing a plan to figure out how to tackle this made her torch-bright eyes shimmer bright like the full-moon. It was tangible. She could feel it. Her sister would be coming back. She would be... she would be!

fShe pounds a fist into an open palm, cracking her knuckles with a sharp nod. "She is a good person. Deep down. I've seen it. Verna is a good source for finding folk."

She holds up a finger, and rubs her neck. "Ah... do be careful with Cryosanthia. She is almost to term with her eggs. She's a bit... you know..." she circles a finger around her head, and whistles. "... bit crazy and random. I can vouch for you if you need to speak with her, I'm helping watch the nest."

A shudder leaves her, and the mute nods firmly. "No, thank you. If you need any more information. Or have any more questions, please, /please/ let me know. I'll do what I can to help point you in the right direction, or give some information Aya doesn't normally share if it can help you find her." <Handspeech>

Cesran nods, "I believe she is too and I would not want to leave her where she is. I will try to keep track of her as well. Perhaps if they move her to another location it might be easier to track and find her. I will see what Verna can do as well, perhaps if we focus our efforts we can break though whatever is blocking my efforts." He ahs, "So noted. Thank you, if I need assistance with getting to see her I shall come get you." Cesran smiles, "You are welcome, I am happy to help, my magic is useless unless I'm using it to help someone. I do have a question if I do find her would you like to come rescue her. It could be quite dangerous, I wouldn't want to put you in needless danger."

Aryia gives a small double thumbs up: one to Cesran, the other to the sentient staff. "Of course, thank you."

Then the question to join the party is posed. It looks like she is about to knee jerk and say 'yes, please take me with you.' But age, experience, and general wisdom grinds that to a halt. She closes her mouth, the words of agreement dying on her half formed lips before she bites them.

She closes her eyes. And breathes. In. Out. "... I want to. I really, really want to. But you know how strong Aya is. If... E could barely keep her contained, and she killed him once before, then... who's to say what kinds of things they're doing to keep her locked away. How guarded she must be. I... I can't. I have to live so she can see me."

It's at this point she's just signing to herself. "I have to get stronger for her. Be strong for her. Here. Her coming back is pointless if I die out there. I have to be strong..." Like mantra, she repeats to herself. <Handspeech>

"I can understand the desire, but I'm glad you are being honest with yourself. I don't know what state she will be in, she still could be transformed and we might have to subdue her to bring her back here and try to undo the transformation. On the other hand seeing you might snap her out. Perhaps as we gather more information and see what we can find out it might be wise to have you come with us when we rescue her." Cesran says, "I'm sure you will get stronger. I don't know how long this will take, hopefully when we are ready to go you will be strong enough."

The pugilist sighs. "I have to be honest with myself. That's how I find my faults."

She shifts on her feet. If seeing her would snap her out of it, than what good would it do if- "I don't think it'd work well, considering killing her lover didn't snap her out of it," she soberly points out, sighing. "But, thank you, if you think its safe enough for me to come with, I can. I have ways of escaping should it be too dangerous. I just... fear that taking too long will be too late for her. I feel like E would have had a contingency to deal with her..."

A thought crosses her. She gives a soft gasp, and rifles around in her green jacket. She pulls something out, and hands it over to Cesran. She gives him:

A half used, slightly bent candle.

"You can use this too. Aya gave that to me before she left. I... told her to burn bright, to not let her candle be guarded until no wick is left. If you run into her, this might snap her out of it. It's... important to us."

She can't help but smile. "I've gotten much stronger since she's been gone. And I look forward to when she can how far I've come. Please, don't wait for me if you get a lead. Time may be of the essence." <handspeech>

Cesran hmms, "Perhaps not. I am no expert in transformation of that kind. You are welcome. I am hopeful we will have time. I will check every day as I said to make sure she is still there." He ahs, "Yes that will help, perhaps if we can get more personal items of her's we can form a stronger connection to find her." He takes the candle respectfully. "I'm sure when we get her back she'll be eager to see all you've learned. I will do my best to be quick."

Aryia gives an honest, youthful beam of a smile. Without prompting, she loops both him and Ral'sara into a brief, yet firm, hug. She pulls away, still smiling. "Thank you so much again," her hands twist and tap to convey. <Handspeech>

Cesran oofs as he's caught off guard by the hug, but he does briefly return it. "Again you are welcome. Is there anyone else that would like to know about Aya's location that I can let them know, perhaps they might have some more information as well."

Aryia grows pensive at the question. "... Cryosanthia, of course. And..."

Her mind blanks. "... I... don't know anyone else. I'm sorry. There's only one other person I can think of, and he's dead." <Handspeech>

Cesran ahs, "I'm sorry to hear that, perhaps with the support of Verna and if Aya wishes too once she is back we can look into having him brought back."

Aryia rubs her neck. "Probably. It's been a few months since he died... Last I know he was brought to the Daeus temples... a... while back..." <Handspeech>

Ravenstongue listens patiently to all of this, frowning and furrowing her brow with Aryia's emotional highs and lows. Pothy behaves as well--mostly out of sheer fear of Aryia and concern for her emotional health.

The black raven, Grandfather, listens intently as well, but (somehow) looks more thoughtful than Pothy, seeming to parse all of this as well. "May the lost child return home," he murmurs. <Sylvan>

Cesran ahs, "I am not allowed in the temple district until they open it back up to the public. I will inquire when I can, although they have probably all ready put him to rest. Verna might know more or could find out more. It's possible though after so long his soul might have gone on to it's eternal reward." He nods to Grandfather raven, "Thank you."

Aryia gives a small nod, her thoughts turning inward at the possibilities of her sister returning sooner rather than later. "Perhaps. She might be able to suss out more information. Who knows..."

She glances to the raven, unable to parse his words before sighing to herself.

Things to prepare. Clothes to tailor. A person to tell about this...

Pothy is given a brief look. Good. He could tell she was not in the headspace to deal with incessant merping about. <Handspeech>

Ravenstongue looks around, her eyes settling on the bar. "Umm... Anyone up for something to eat? Or drink?" she asks, attempting to dispel the mood that settled onto the whole evening.

Pothy looks almost ready to open his mouth, but looks at Aryia again and decides against it. Grandfather, however, says, in his far more palatable tones for Aryia's ears, "I think that is a good idea. How I wish I could taste anything for myself... One day, perhaps. One day."

Cesran smiles, "You two go and enjoy yourself, I have research that I have to get back to as well as other plans to make. I'll let you know if something else comes up Ayria. Please enjoy the rest of your day." He gives a polite nod of his head to both before he turns to leave.

Aryia gives a little wave to Cesran as he goes, and nods towards him.

She turns to Ravenstongue, the mul'neissa's expression far more lighter and easier to smile than before with that development. "Tea sounds great, actually," she signs, and gestures to follow her over to the bar. The mute plops into a seat, and turns to face Ravenstongue and crew.

"So... how did... uh... all this come about?" she asks, gesturing to the new raven, Grandfather. <Handspeech>

Tea successfully ordered, Ravenstongue sits down with Aryia. Some snacky-food is ordered for Pothy, and the white raven hops onto the bar to eat it. Grandfather, however, sits on Ravenstongue's shoulders, maintaining a respectful gaze at all of the sights to see--though his violet eyes linger on the people moreso than anything.

Ravenstongue starts. "Well, umm... Yeah. Turns out my paternal family sort of forgot that the reason why they gave up children to the Feathered One is because he's our ancestor. He's a lot like me--a bit of a recluse in some ways. He doesn't like talking to other fae, and he--"

"/I/," Grandfather says, very amused sounding, "absolutely abhor speaking to others of my kind. Court politics are mind-numbingly dull. The common variety are astonishingly annoying in their presences. Much like you seem to be irritated by my white-plumed companion for his inability to modulate his volume, I cannot stand pixies, for instance--but I have felt that pestilence called loneliness for eons. Hence why I have one of my descendants by my late wife, a mortal woman, come to live with me." He sighs. "They have determined I am some awful villain who devours children when I have named and hand-raised every babe with the utmost of care."

The mute mul'neissa slowly pans between Grandfather and Ravenstongue (with subtle glances to Pothy, just in case) during the explanation. She pours out tea for them once it arrives, though she's a bit busy listening to sip on any just yet.

She snerks, nodding at Grandfather's assessment of Aryia's opinion towards Pothy. Which wasn't very high, unfortunately. Lucky he is that he hasn't been turned into a projectile just yet.

Aryia offers her sympathies. "That sucks." Succinct as ever. "Did you raise RT too?" If the letters didn't mean anything to him, the pointing to his 'granddaugther' would fill in the gap. <Handspeech>

Pothy is behaving, content to just snack on his snacks and let Grandfather do the talking. Surprisingly enough.

"I wish I did," Grandfather says with a sigh. "I named Cor'lana myself, as her mother was resting from the strain of childbirth and her father had not prepared a name. We began the rite to mark her according to tradition and that was when her mother awakened and interrupted the ceremony. The white-winged menace was sent to claw at her father."

"Pothy was apparently my mother's familiar first, but I don't remember him at all from before I got him," Ravenstongue explains with a sigh. "Not surprising, considering my memory issues... Anyway, my mother interrupted the ceremony, stole me away, and fled to Rune."

"I don't blame her for what she did," Grandfather says with a sigh. "My descendant should have explained everything. But the man is... poorly of moral fiber, shall we say."

Aryia nods along, feeling a bit... odd that she was getting her information from a raven. But, she presses on regardless, sipping on her tea. It was a bit of a strange circumstance for sure, certainly one that she's never heard of in any of her long life. "At least you're nice and not wanting to do those things that you mentioned. Because that's what I expect from something like that."

The pugilist stares intently at Grandfather. What words of wisdom will she share. "... ah, so her dad is kind of a massive prick. Got it."

She raises a hand, a bit uneasy. "... what's a mark? Mark her how?" Considering the.... canvas of scars littering Aryia's body, she's a tad unsettled about this procedure. <Handspeech>

Ravenstongue looks a little hesitant at first at the mention of the mark. But Grandfather... Well, he does a very grandfatherly thing. He pushes his beak gently into Ravenstongue's hair and rubs against her for a moment, somehow giving off the impression of a raven headpat. "Go on and show her," he says encouragingly."

The half-elf nods and she unfastens her cloak to reveal a lower-cut dress than she normally wears underneath. There is a mark on her chest, right above her heart. A black feather, with a set of silver scales inside. "Ashlee added the scales," she says. "It's a curuchuil. It's an elven tradition--although it's typically a piece of art passed down through the family and added onto by others and not literally painted onto bodies. This one is permanent."

"It was a tradition started with my first set of grandchildren," Grandfather explains. "They wanted something to mark the firstborn who might possibly come to live with me. Not all who received the mark came to live with me, but those who did regarded it as proof they were born of my lineage. They were proud of that... And slowly as the generations turned, they forgot what they were proud of." He sighs.

Aryia raises a brow and looks down. One could make out the way her lips move and throat bobs that she just barely says 'huh' in mild surprise, leaning in just slightly to inspect the scales on it before pulling away. "It looks neat," she compliments.

Her lips turn downwards some at the bit that Grandfather adds. "Well. Uh, you aren't mortal, so you've got time. And I guess RT can be the change in that. If they forgot, then she can be the one that can help remember. Right?" she signs, looking to Ravenstongue expectantly, hoping to cheer up the sad dad. <Handspeech>

Ravenstongue puts her cloak back on, mildly blushing a little at having exposed herself in such a manner. "I have no clue what my path brings," she says. "All I know is for now, I'm just... happy to have family again. Family that actually wants me."

This definitely serves to cheer up Grandfather. He nuzzles against Ravenstongue's hair again, making her smile almost from ear to ear. "Of course, little one. And of course, I support anything she wants to do--although I do hope one day, when she's ready to retire from adventuring, she will live the last of her days with me in Quelynos, where my kind dwell."

If Aryia noticed the light flush, she didn't make a fuss of it, nor did she care enough to do so. She nods, crossing one leg over the other and sitting up straighter. "No one knows what their path will bring. Like, shit, I didn't know I could make moonlight appear like that-" she snaps her fingers, and a tiny spec of silvery light flashes briefly from betwixt her fingertips- ", so who knows what's in store for you."

She looks to Grandfather, her tilting her head to the side. "That is a hope. But, ultimately, the choice is hers. But, I am glad you have some nice resolution to all of this, and it came out to a positive in the end." <Handspeech>

"I'm glad too," both Grandfather and Ravenstongue say at the same time. Violet eyes look at each other for just a split second before they both laugh. Grandfather's laughter is a deep melody, like the tolling of bells to mark the passage of time. His descendant's laughter is not so melodious, but it complements his anyway. Even with one of them in raven form, and even separated by what can only be thousands of years... It is uncanny how much they clearly resemble each other.

"That moonlight is beautiful," Ravenstongue adds, smiling at Aryia's display of magic. "One day I'll get to do that too. I've been working hard. And now that I know more about who I am... I know I'll get there."

Aryia could only look between the two, her lightly smiling. Yet she couldn't help but feel a little disjointed. What sorts of similarities did she have with her own parents? Or... beyond? Was there a beyond? Her scattered memories provided no answer to this. But, at least her friend was happy.

She rubs her neck, her smile turning weak. "Um, thanks. I can do a lot more with it, but I can show you another time. I don't want to blind anyone here..."

She clears her throat and leans in some towards Ravenstongue. "Good. And the further you understand yourself, the further you can surprise yourself with how much you can actually do and accomplish. Deepen your understanding of what make you, well, you, and a wellspring will shoot forth afterwards of boundless possibilities."

She knocks back her tea, rising to her feet, and smirks.

"Catch you later RT. Nice to meet you Grandfather. Pothy." She slides on her shades, snaps two moonlit finger guns towards the trio and... she simple fades. An after image of her. Another appears in the middle of the TarRaCe. It fades, then another appears at the entrance. And it too, fades... <Handspeech>

-End Scene-