Petty Grievances and Family Matters

Log Info

• Title: Petty Grievances and Family Matters
• Emitter: Jinks
• Characters: Jinks, Mikilos, Aryia, Ravenstongue
• Place: Lower Gardens
• Time: December 19th, 2021
• Summary: On a cold day in the lower gardens, a couple of ne'er-do-wells express pettiness and beyond mild vandalism as they leave. Aryia, Mikilos, and Ravenstongue are witness to such things, the former cleaning up the minor mess the leave. Aryia spots a letter through the window as she does, but ends up in conversation Mikilos and Ravenstongue (and Grandfather, the other raven she touts around). They speak of the ban on summoning and teleportation magics, Aryia learning that her jumping around is actually teleporting as she eats dirt. Jinks leaves the Defense with a helper in tow, him snickering at the display before wandering off. Conversation turns to homelands, family, as well as the effects of the city's decision. A curious time for all.

The gardens have taken on something of a fey aspect in the cold and damp of early afternoon this Eliday. Low fog crawls lazy and thin over the grasses and snakes into the bushes but the view to the south is as bright and bolstering as the recent news of the archdevil's defeat. The smell of clean, wet grass is twisted mildly with that of the sea coming in from the southern port.

The Soldiers Defense has something of a bustle on its perimeter as the routines of the Temple District still haven't returned to normal. A few loose gatherings scatter the garden grounds as faithful attend to afternoon devotions.

Two sour-looking women lounge at either end of a bench, frowning and messily eating pomegranate fruits. Flat-faced and gap-toothed, Halette glowers at a window on the side of the hospital. Next to her, the slender Reilly with her braided, dirty-blonde hair spits seed-after-seed to the side, leaning forward with an arm on her thigh. Even out of armor and seemingly unarmed they have the air of idle menace.

Mikilos is a diffrent sort of fey aspect, sparkeling with spring sunshine thru a curtain of rusteling leaves, even when neither sunshine nor leaves are actually present. It's an elf thing, and a magic thing, and a magic elf thing... just roll with it. The non-mundane elf wanders absently, paying far more attention to his reading than to wear he's going. To be fair, it's quite the text, large and bound in sheets of scarlet vellum, scented faintly of sulfur. It's also floating, which may have more to do with the reader, but still stands out as the garden paths are wandered.

Cold and damp, such a common weather these past few days. A trio of elves are walking through the gardens: a scarred mul'neissa woman, a llyranesi woman, and a llyranesi man. They arrive at an intersection, and they stop to briskly converse. "We shall... reconvene for dinner?" the woman asks of the mul'neissa.

She bobs her head, tightening up her green jacket. She motions with her free hand, the man focusing on the gestures. "Yes. I'll pick you up, we can go get tea. I know a place." <Handspeech>

Hazarding affection, the one armed llyranesi pats her shoulder. "We look forward to it."

The two dawn elves depart, and Aryia moves through the gardens once more, north bound. She slows some, eyeing the menacing duo idly before spotting Mikilos and giving a slight up-nod in greeting.

There's a trio of a different sort--one short half-elf girl and two ravens, one white with blue eyes and one black with violet eyes--entering the gardens this day. Ravenstongue seems to be merrily chatting with the violet-eyed raven as she feeds the ever-familiar (in more than one way) Pothy a medley of nuts and dried berries from her raised hand as she walks.

"Grandfather, these are some of the gardens I like visiting from time to time," she says more audibly as they approach. She sweeps a hand over the environs before she catches a glance of the soldiers out of armor, much too focused on her extra corvid. "It's a bit foggy today, but it's nice, isn't it?"

"It is, little one," the violet-eyed raven responds, a deep and melodious mirth in his voice as he then adds, "but it is not so lovely as you, precious child."

The blonde lifts a foot and lightly kicks the other woman's ankle with the outside of her foot, getting her attention. They both stand after a quiet exchange. There's an awkwardness to their movements; they seem to be favoring their backs and shoulders, adjusting their winter coats carefully. The dark-skinned woman pulls her hood up over her closely-cropped brown hair and they head in the opposite direction.

The pair pass a group of Tarienites smiling and laughing, rocking as they sit cross-legged listening to a boisterous, pudgy oruch matron relate a humorous fable. She has a pair of assistants-- grandchildren by the look of them-- dancing around her feet being fierce in their paper masks.

They leave the laughter and turn to walk the perimeter of the Defense. Reilly crushes the remainder of her fruit in her hand and drops it, slapping her palm against the glass of a window and smearing the dark red, sticky fruit's squeezing across the pane. The pair laugh and glance over their shoulders before continuing on their way.

Mikilos starts slightly, peering around absently a moment before focusing on Aryia with a smile, returning the nod of greeting. "Good afternoon. How are you today?" His attention is pulled furter, towards the birdy trio, and raises a hand in greeting to them. The less plesant departing pair are largely ingored, they just want attention, don't give it to them.

Aryia regards the storytelling trio with a light smile, catching a strand of the story and chuckling silently to herself. The smile turns around at the duo's sense of humor, scowling at their backs as they saunter inside. With a sigh, she pulls out a rag, scoops up some snow that's been lingering about in a corner, and wipes off the handprint on the window once the troublemakers were gone. Don't need to give the healers more shit to deal with.

Returning, she picks up the dropped fruit and tosses it underhand into a the underbrush. There, now nature can have it properly. "I'm well. Better in most way, confused in a couple. Yourself? I haven't seen you in a while."

The bassy voice pulls her attention off to the side, glowing gaze searching for- ah! The mute raises a hand to Ravenstongue and both birds in greeting.

<Handspeech>

"Good day! Or afternoon! Perhaps early evening? I can scarcely tell--the passage of days is still quite foreign to me through these eyes," the black bird on Ravenstongue's shoulder calls out in greeting to Aryia.

Ravenstongue snickers a little in response. "It's the afternoon, Grandfather, just as Mister Mikilos said," she says, bringing herself closer to Mikilos and Aryia. "I'll introduce you to him in a moment. I'm glad you're well, Aryia, but how about yourself, Mister Mikilos?"

Mikilos says, "nods. "Well enough. Been busy with assorted projects and research, and recently adjusting to the new limitations. I understand why conjurations were banned in the city, but it does make crafting awkward. Never realized how much I used elementals until was forced to stop." He peers with idle curiousity at the black bird. "Greetings sir. Mikilostravia Abrioudelanarchie Mithralla, Lord of Estranillia, Builder Arcane, at your service. Though a simple 'Mikilos' is more than fine.""

The women stay outside the Defense, curling around a corner and out of view. A quick, walk-by act of bored cruelty in the hopes of remaining anonymous. They're cowards.

The window cleans easily enough. Inside, the room is empty and the bed is made. On a stand to one side is a folded paper with a wax seal marking it official. The door to the hall is open and warm light spills into the room.

From inside the hospital comes Jinks, walking in step with the gnomish volunteer he was advised should be left to do his duties and not harassed or "picked up" at the Soldier's Defense-- but the gnome has made a career of ignoring paladin's advice. They pass the minstrel's flask between them and chat easily as they nibble on a snack of muffins. They seem to be talking about ships, comparing notes between air- and water-based varieties.

Aryia nods her head. "Yes, I know a lot of wizards and other mages are kind of annoyed by it. Thankfully, I can still do this!"

The mute crouches down, looks up to the roof of the Defense, and jumps.

About two feet off the ground.

She slips and falls face first into the ground with an anticlimactic "-h f-ck." Smack. "... y-'ve g-t t- b- f-ck-ng k-dd-ng m-..."

Groaning, and red in the face embarrassed, she dusts herself off from snow. It takes her a moment to rejoin the conversation, getting jaunted by the lengthy name Mikilos had. She blinks a few times at that, and she rubs at her face. Huh. Official letter. Might have been addressed to that boy. Where... was he? Her idle musings return her to the entrance of the Defense, only to catch Jinks. Her face grows redder. He... probably saw that. Though, she waves. <Handspeech>

Having drawn his fellow's eye to the group of familiar faces, Jinks and his company did and, yes, both are now laughing. The dandy has his tongue up over his curled upper-lip, trying to supress his smile but the laughlines are spreading out from the corner of his eyes; a sign of the losing battle.

After he surrenders the battle and allows himself to laugh a little he pops the last of the muffin in his mouth and raises a hand to wave, signing, "No teleportation magics, remember?"

The dockhand-cum-hospital volunteer bumps his shoulder into Jinks, still laughing, and the the bard takes it as a cue to wrap their arms together. When the other man doesn't pull away he just waves again and steers them both on the path to the south where they can talk just the two of them. <handspeech>

The black raven flies off Raven's shoulder to Aryia's shoulder, his violet eyes full of concern as he nudges his feathered head into Aryia's head to help nudge the snow off of her hair. It's the most he can do without arms and hands. "Are you quite alright?" he asks, a very paternal concern in his voice. And, more importantly for Aryia, very soft in volume.

"Snacks!" Pothy decrees from Ravenstongue's shoulder as he zeros in on the muffins that Jinks is sharing with the volunteer. He flaps from Ravenstongue's shoulder and descends to Jinks' feet, looking up at him with begging blue eyes out in full force. He has never been fed, /ever/.

Mikilos doesn't laugh. Very carefully doesn't laugh. He does offer Aryia a hand in getting back up. "Yeeees, a ban on assorted teleportaion magics as well. Also annoying, but understandable. Have some ideas to make transportation around the city a little easier, but would all require fairly vast infrastructure." A wave in passing to the gnomes, and an amused smile to Pothy. Sadly, the wizard has nothing intended for snacking, though a few reagents might technically be edible.

Aryia fires back with a hand towards Jinks, her face so crimson that a passing glance would think her some other kind of elf aside from a mul. "I DIDN'T KNOW THAT WAS TELEPORTING!" brisk, flustered hands express before she sighs and buries her face in them.

She was never going to live that down.

The violet-eyed raven gets her to rejoin conversation, her kicking at the snow at her feet. "... yes, I'm okay," she signs to him.

A moment to collect herself, and she turns to Mikilos, her staring at the ground, "What ideas do you have??" <Handspeech>

Pothy watches his muffins--as far as he is concerned, they *are* his muffins--walk away. He hangs his head for a moment in sheer despair. No one rejects food for Pothy! "Snacks," he says, in almost a mournful voice. He returns to Ravenstongue's shoulder and gives a dramatic sigh, only limply taking the nuts and dried fruit that the half-elf offers him.

"It's been a little troublesome for me, too," Ravenstongue comments. "But I've been able to deal with it."

"Good girl," Grandfather says. He nudges himself against Aryia's head for a moment--the raven equivalent of a headpat, one might surmise--before he returns to Ravenstongue's shoulder and nods his head towards Mikilos. "It is a pleasure to meet you, sir Mikilos," he says. "You may call me Grandfather."

Mikilos waves vaugely. "Clockwork carriage moving on rails around the city, carrying people from district to district. A simple enough concept, but the details get complex very swiftly." He nods politely to the assumed elder bird. "A pleasre to make your aquaintance."

Aryia can't help but pout at being called as such, her crossing her arms and squinting at the baclk feathered raven as he returns to his original perch. The mute was not a 'good girl'. She was a demon punching badass! That... totally just ate brick a bit ago.

She kicks the snow idly again, grumbling nothing in particular to herself.

She glances to Miki, her raising a brow. "That sounds interesting. But I can see how it can get complicated."

She rubs her face, free hand complaining, "Man, this sucks. Now I feel like every other wizard. I liked jumping over buildings..." <Handspeech>

"That sounds *cool*," Ravenstongue says, amazed. "I didn't know you could do that--although, well, I shouldn't be surprised. Aryia is really scary to watch in combat, Grandfather."

The black raven peers at Aryia for a moment. "As should be expected of any friend of yours, little one," he says. "You surround yourself with talented and skilled individuals." He puffs out his throat feathers in a clear display of pride. Perhaps too much so.

Mikilos frowns mildly at the 'every other wizard' bit, but as he never could jump over buildings, lets it slide. He nods to Grandfather. "Or perhaps other talented individuals are drawn to her own talents. 'Like attracts like' and all that."

Aryia quirks a brow at Mikilos. "What? I'm just annoyed like the rest of you all," she motions flatly before looking to the trio of ravens.

The mute rubs her neck. "Mikilos is right. Talented people tend to be in circles with other talented folks. But uh... yes. I've been able to do that for a bit. Though I thought I was leaping far, not teleporting." She shrugs, then sighs. "... ah well.. it was nice to use in the city while it lasted. Better than demons being summoned I guess."

She guesses. Still was pouty about it. <Handspeech>

Grandfather peers at Ravenstongue for a moment. While ravens can't smile, one gets the impression from the pride in his eyes and the puffed up feathers that he is even happier with the statements of Mikilos and Aryia. "I like your friends, Cor'lana," he says. "They are very apt judges of my talented and precious child."

This makes Ravenstongue snicker. She pats Grandfather on the head. "You're laying it on too thick, Grandfather. You've only really known me for a bit over a week!" she says, before she turns back to Aryia and Mikilos. "I imagine they'll eventually lift the restrictions, right? I can't imagine they'll keep doing this forever."

Mikilos nods, but frowns again. "Mildly annoyed there aren't loopholes in demonic conjuration. Yes yes, it's overall bad, but handy in certain cases." He gestures to the crimson floating book before tucking it into a pouch. "With Eclavdran gone, there's a power vaccum in the infernal realms. Would be nice to know who rises to power, who is toppled, and so forth. Buth I'm forced to rely on third-hand information and guesswork." He looks to Ravenstongue and shrugs. "Maybe? I'm not clear on how they're doing it exactly in the first place, so can only guess the duration. But is a wisdom to a hard ban on demonic conjurations. Would think are many who want this to be the new normal."

Aryia snickers at Ravenstongue telling Grandfather to cool it. But, she shrugs. "I don't know if they'll ever lift it. Mikilos is right, the common folk might enjoy it greatly, it gives them peace of mind. Though I think the nobility might be quite pissed they are inconvenienced. And the Society might just make a wing outside of the city to do their summonings. Temples too. No demons. But no angels either." <Handspeech>

"It /is/ bothersome to receive Grandfather's messenger outside of the city, but it is easy enough to bring him in," Ravenstongue says. "We haven't worked out a way of bringing him here for real with my current abilities--and is probably not for the best considering Eclavdran."

Grandfather huffs. "I am no demon nor an angel. Nor do I wish to be associated with such. I am only here for Cor'lana and to be with her. Intervening in matters of mortalkind is far beyond my interests."

Mikilos nods. "I hope they at least make adjustments. A ban on infernal summons is one thing, a flat restriction of all conjuration is quite another. I'd hoped my lab was far enough to the outskirts, but apparently anything in the city is fully covered."

Aryia lightly sighs. "Fey too. But that tends to be outside the city anyways when Fey pop up," she signs slowly. "Regardless, I'm going to be honest, it does feel kind of nice I can rest at night without having to worry about some random Ashwing burn the building down or drown it in necromancy. Like last time."

The mute looks up to Mikilos. "They're going to have to, else talent is going to leave the city." <Handspeech>

At Aryia's remark, Grandfather just looks at Ravenstongue for a long, long moment. "What kind of city were you living in? Clearly this is not a safe and loving environment for my little on--"

Ravenstongue just pats Grandfather on the head. "It's okay! I'm perfectly safe, I promise." She sighs as she looks to Mikilos and Aryia. "I was supposed to be given to Grandfather here as a baby to live with him in Quelynos, like many of my ancestors have. We worked out a deal that I'll be living with him later in life when I'm tired of the 'mortal world'."

Mikilos considers. "Some will leave, some will adapat, and will be those attracted to the security of it all. Not sure how the final adjustments will go. -IF- they keep things as the are now." He nods to Ravenstongue. "Would encourage you to visit when you get the chance, Quelynos was lovely the few times I visited, but not to my tastes for a long term home."

Aryia looks to Grandfather, and stares at him blankly. "Ships are safest in the harbor. But that's not what they're built for," she dispenses wisdom through gestures. She leaves it at that. Overbearing coddling was something she didn't approve of.

The mute shrugs. "Perhaps, yes. I don't know, doesn't seem like something they'd keep if Charn is being all... Charn."

She smooths her jacket out some, glancing up at the sky. "Speaking of home. I met my parents. It's weird," she casually drops, scratching her nose. <Handspeech>

Ravenstongue quirks a brow at Mikilos's mention of just visiting Quelynos. "Oh, right," she says, the eyebrow going back down. "You're an archmage, you can just do that. I've improved lately, but I'm still not /that/ good! Maybe one day."

However, both brows go up when Aryia mentions her parents. Her head bolts to Aryia as her eyes widen in surprise. "Really? Your parents? How did that go?"

Mikilos blinks, eyeing Aryia. "A plesant visit, I hope?" He grins, and nods to Ravenstongue. "I've been to most of the planes, if only long enough to cross it off the list."

Aryia looks off to the side and purses her lips. "Nearly split my head in half from the headache, and they nearly blasted me and a couple of friends after their identities were revealed by them. But it worked out in the end."

She shifts a bit, rubbing her neck. "It's... going okay. I haven't seen them in nearly eighty years. And I barely remember them due to my memory issues. We're... talking. Trying to find out where the boundaries lay. I'm not their little girl anymore. And they're not the same parents I barely remember. It's awkward most of the time, but it's nice. When I don't get a headache from all the memories coming back."

She pauses, then looks off to the side to a tree whose shadow was too long. "... and when a certain someone stops snooping on me will you FUCK. OFF!" she gestures wide at the shadow across the way.

Which, strangely, reacts by detaching itself and absconding into the bushes. <Handspeech>

All two ravens and Ravenstongue blink at the same time in response to the shadow doing as Aryia commanded. "...Is the shadow related?" Ravenstongue asks, now quirking her head in a hint of confusion. Blissfully, the two ravens seem to know better than to comment on it (Pothy especially).

Mikilos snorts softly, and grins. "Sounds about as good as can be expected. I get a range of cousins passing through, but at least the aunts have stopped trying to arrange a wedding for me."

Aryia pouts and crosses her arms for a moment before releasing one to gesture. "The shadow is not related to me, personally. It's my mother's. It's an undead creature, but it's harmless. Mother uses them as her eyes and ears."

She glares at the bushes. "So it needs to fuck off!" she threatens again, this time raising a hand that glows with pale moonlight, faint lines appearing on her visage of the same color.

The shadows under the bushes return to their normal shaded hue.

Abating the magics and effects, she sighs, and rubs her face. "... They're nice to me, at the very least, and respect /most/ of my boundaries." She glances up to Mikilos, then snickers. "That's good. I bet that had been going on for a looong while." <Handspeech>

Ravenstongue stares at Grandfather, who seems to stiffen up like a board at the revelation of the shadow's nature. If conjured raven messengers could sweat...

"You know, that reminds me of someone," Ravenstongue says in a very pointed manner, still staring at Grandfather. "Use of creatures to monitor their descendants... Needing to be told to back off..."

"I did what I did because I was going mad from loneliness, child, you know that," Grandfather says with a sigh.

This prompts a giggle from Ravenstongue, who looks back to Aryia. "Let me know if you need any help with that. I'm glad that they're at least respecting boundaries."

Mikilos frowns mildly, and shrugs. "I know a few who use living shadows, usually to good effect. Would be cautious though, with the ban on conjured creatures, such servants will stand out all the more." He frowns mildly. "Not even 150 yet, no rush to settle down and get married. Some day, yes, certainly, but not yet."

Aryia nods. "I'm aware, and they're aware. My parents have a checkered past but they aren't privy to repeat it to stand out."

She grins a bit at Grandfather and Ravenstongue. ".I'll keep that in mind. I... might need to, to be honest. I'm sorry if you run into them, they ask.. a... /lot/ of questions."

The mute silently snickers at mikilos. "Hey, I'm only one hundred and ten, I know what you mean! Got a lot of time before needing to worry about that." <Handspeech>

Ravenstongue flushes a little at the mention of marriage. "I'm definitely too young for that," she says. "I'm only twenty years old--turning twenty-one in a few months. Sure, I'm an adult, but I don't want to rush into things."

It's Grandfather's turn to turn and stare at Ravenstongue. "Twenty-one? Already? I need to prepare! I haven't thrown a birthday party in--well, in twenty-one years! Goodness me."

Mikilos grins. "Of course is a range, twenty-old was barely walking on my own. Humans, counts as full grown. And fairly sure still a hatchling in dragon years. Can make things awkward, at times."

Aryia snickers at that. "Damn, I should hold that over them. Parents missed eighty of mine. And yes, it gets odd trying keep the scale of things toned done for some people for me."

She takes a deep breath, and slowly exhales, looking about, then back up at the sun. "Right. I should head home. I need to get some things arranged before I meet them again. Nice catching up with the two of you."

With that, Aryia gives a lazy two finger salute, shoves her hands in her pockets, and strolls off. <Handspeech>

"Good afternoon, Aryia!" both Ravenstongue and Grandfather say, before looking at each other and giggling.

Ravenstongue looks to Mikilos and nods. "I should probably get going too," she says. "Pothy will be very upset if he doesn't get his favorite bakery snacks, and I have more of the city to show to Grandfather."

Mikilos grins and nods, waving farewell to Aryia before nodding to Ravenstongue. "And I should get back to my research. Was a pleasure to meet you, Grandfather,"

-End Scene-