Short Legs Work Slowly

Log Info

• Title: Short Legs Work Slowly
• Emitter: Jinks
• Characters: Aryia, Jinks, Seyardu
• Place: Sage Orum's Plaza, University District
• Time: Decebmer 10th, 2021
• Summary: Blasting winter winds molest pedestrians passing past the usually-placid plaza on a late night of deep blue skies and glittering, diamond stars. Jinks pauses at the mouth of an alley working up the courage to brave the streets. Aryia and Seyardu arrive in time to help an Academy student collect a scattered bundle of papers. The three meet to talk once the student has his work and disappears into the safe shelter of the city library. It turns out the gnome has been busy gathering information from the People of Alexandria. He has News. Aryia and Seyardu are frustrated.

Sage Orum's Plaza

It's Kesenday, Khael 10 21:37:14 1023. The full moon isn't up. The tide is high and rising.

The icy northwest wind howls, blowing snow about in savage gusts. The cold is intense. The sky is clear deep blue and the stars glitter, brilliant as diamonds.

The nightsky is gorgeous; a deep, moody blue with brilliant, glittering diamond-sparkle stars. It's still not a night most would pick for stargazing as the biting, icy wind blasts down from the north and west to slam against and blow up-and-over the mountains to the east. Traffic is scarce and most have the sense to hurry on their business and get back indoors as soon as possible.

Jinks squints into the nonsense weather with a frown, his arms crossed where he stands a step back from the mouth of an alleyway. The Tsura witch's basement shop is behind him down a short series of steps and he wears his recent acquisitions slung across his shoulder in a fancy little leather satchel. A scarf bunches up about the lower half of his face, wrapped around and resting on his shoulders. The furrowing of his brow does plenty to relay is consternation even without the downturned corners of his lips in view.

The fancy dandy uncrosses his arms to rub at his right wrist, making to step out into the street just as the wind picks up again with a howl and makes him stop to think again.

A student from the Society let's out a yawp as his robes blast against his back and up between his legs, tripping him even as a twined bundle of papers is spoiled and sent exploding into the air. They flap and snap angrily, tearing away down the street and up towards the night sky; perhaps they mean to catch an airship up the mountain road.

The nightsky.

Perhaps in an almost broody, angsty sort of setting from a teenage fiction novel, a figure is sitting atop a roof, staring up at the night sky. Pensive, contemplative.

Though the figure shifts some as they notice the poor student stumble and spill. They rise, snatch only one of the fleeing pages from the air, and steps off the roof to land nearby with a soft >ka-thunk<.

Aryia, in her verdant jacket buckled tight, holds out the page to them, a sheepish look on her face.

GAME: Vaera rolls 1d20: (2): 2

There was much less concern, at least for the moment, that there was anything particularly nasty lurking in the shadows of the city. It was a breath of fresh air for many who made the place home, though there was always concerns to be had in the place. But for now, it was a chance for Seyardu to relax, at least a little bit.

It also meant that the cleric could be a bit more liberal with her magics, especially that late in the day. Upon seeing the student fumbling in the winter wind, the silver makari reaches for her holy symbol, and from their back sprout a pair of leathery, equally shining wings, before the take off into the sky with their wings, to catch what she could before it could no longer make it out. The manage to gather the bulk of the papers, the makari making their descent into a clear landing zone in the plaza.

Though what she is not expecting is to land in a concealed sheet of ice, which sends the cleric skidding until she crashes into a snowbank. She quickly picks herself up and dusts herself off, before she too is heading over to where they were to offer the papers, slightly damp for the experience.

The student finds his feet with some difficulty, stumbling again when the cloth between his legs becomes a sail and catches the next gust of wind. He stands up, finally, and manages to turn sideways and untangle the lower parts of his robes. His hood is twisted around to one side and flaps against his cheek. Long, frustrated fingers find it and fold it down into his collar. His white teeth stand out against the dark skin of his round face, a pleasant and appreciative (if a bit awkward) smile. "All of my thanks," he offers in a breathless-but-deep voice as he accepts the papers, bobbing his head in a shallow bow. One cheek has a series of blue-purple dots, difficult to see in the gloom but describing a tilted hourglass. He smiles and nods again before shuffle-stepping towards the library, the loose and chaotic stack of papers held against his chest in a deathgrip until he's through the double-doors.

From his spot at the mouth of the alley, Jinks offers applause as his eyes twinkle with amusement. He still hasn't managed to quit the alley; perhaps afraid he, too, will be sent up and into the sky with the next gust of wind.

Aryia affords a light smile and a wave from the hip for the student, her half primed to reach for any other pages. Though, she does flinch from the crash nearby. Blinking, she raises a cautionary hand towards Seyardu. "Hey, you okay?"

She looks over her shoulder, finding the small applause from afar. She gives a lop sided grin, and her light-hearted eyeroll could be seen from afar in the dark. <Handspeech>

With the pages handed off, and the student scurrying off, Seyardu is able to turn her attention to the mul'niessa. The silverscale chuckles, and shakes her head. "Of course, I am fine, thankfully the spell cushions such collisions, and the snow was there as well. It is a bit ironic, I believe, that the snow would do such, but also conceal the ice that caused the problem in the first place."

The cleric sighs. "And the ground is difficult to navigate enough normally." She bemoans before she looks to the alleyway. She waves to the gnome herself.

Jinks ventures a gloved hand out beyond the mouth of the alley, testing the winds for a moment before hunching his shoulders forward and braving the street. It's a silly little dance by the gnome, head tilted as he tries to guess the wind's intent, turning or pausing in his steps when it starts to pick up. Stumbling once, he crouches for a moment and squints his eyes, cocking one ear up and out from behind the scarf to just listen. Then-- find a calm in the proverbial storm-- he stands up and scampers the last bit of distance before moving around Seyardu to employ the sith as something of a windbreak.

The gnome looks up and pulls the scarf down, tucking it under his chin. His diamond-stud jestrum is set in platinum and twinned with a labret and matches a pair of simple (for him) ear piercings. "How's the head, tallman?" he wonders of Aryia, pausing in rubbing at his own wrist to tap two fingers against his temple. He cants his head at Seyardu.

Aryia gives a light shrug towards Seyardu. "At least nothing's broken. That would have been... interesting to deal with. I bet the ice is doubly hard for you to see."

She strolls up towards the gnome, careful steps as if to not slip over any ice, nor be buffeted off kilter. "Nice piercing," she signs, tapping her lips. It's followed by a slight nod, and a faint frown. Contradicting statements. "Sometimes better, sometimes worse. Don't have it right now, Verna fixed me up."

She glances between him, and Seyardu. A brow raises. "She's aware of the headaches. Though, not it's cause." Her gaze settles on the silverscale. "Memories trickling back in bits and pieces. But months worth at a time. Really fries my brain." <Handspeech>

Seyardu squints when Jinks makes a break for it, and finding herself being used as some manner of buffer for the gnome, the cleric sighs and extends one of the wings off to her side as a much more effective windbreak. "I'm pretty durable, Aryia. I can not say I have broken many bones in my life, from much worse injuries."

The mention of the headaches makes them raise a brow. "It is, your headaches are from memories?" She asks, for furher explanation. "That sounds about right. I do not know all of my memories, but whenever I felt them missing, it would cause my head to spin. Is this a good thing, or a bad thing, Aryia?"

"Huh." Jinks muses, smiling quickly and winking thanks at the mention of his piercings. "I still can't recall my first death. Or much of my time in the Hells-- but I do suppose that's a blessing." He taps his chest, idly, and glances between the other two. "Quite the forgetful trio... of all the things to be in fashion..."

He takes a deep breath and sighs, shrugging away some thought. "I'd had a Luckbringer trying to help me before I decided against continuing down that path," he sniffs. "She would conjure illusions from my descriptions to try and spark further memory. Loose the first olive to make the whole host tumble free the jar. I can manage as much now. Easily, in fact. Sights, sounds, smells, touch. So long as you embrace the fantasy it may make things smoother.

"But it's the sort of private, personal thing most with any sense wouldn't trust to me." Jinks smiles wide and gives a little laugh. "So no offense taken if it's not of any interest."

Aryia shrugs lightly. "Broken bones still suck." Though, she rubs her neck. "It's... both. Hurts like shit when something jogs my memory. But the pieces are so fragmented, none of it makes sense. Sometimes some things click, sometimes they don't. I've just been doing my best to meditate on it when I can. Which... is hard. When your head is pounding.

She looks down at Jinks, her head turning to the side. "That... does sound rather well that you cannot remember that. I know I wouldn't."

The mute nods slowly. "... I get what you mean. Sort of similar thing here. Mourner pulled some memories up for me. A couple of them later, the rest started to slowly come to light. Now it's a whole damn downpour of olives every now and then."

Despite Jinks' attempt at self-deflection, Aryia shakes her head, and her gloved hands move to say, "If my damn olive jar wasn't already tipped over, I'd ask for your help. But at this rate, any more prodding and I might go comatose." <Handspeech>

"Yes, they do. Very much so, and they invite complications and infections. Best not to have any." Seyardu nods. "Though, talk of memories, I did not know you had any Jinks, but also, I did not ask, so that is understandable, and I mean nothing bad by that statement."

"My own, they are more absent than unable to be recalled, at least, that seems to be the case. Perhaps those who forget are prone to ending up in this city, as they try to fill in something missing from their lives."

"Yes, I have heard bards are good with that sort of thing. If I need anything, I will keep it in mind, but for now, I am alright. Knowing my brother is safe, that is enough for me at the moment."

'Alexandria was trapped in the mists. I remember up until shortly after we returned.' Jinks tells Seyardu, glancing down as he realizes he's flexing his fingers. He shoves his hands into his pockets before looking back up. 'A rather unpleasant series of jarring images and it's mid-Firetide of this year and I'm walking into a bar that wasn't there and a group of wargolem are performing. Eight-years later, turns out.' He shrugs to cover a brief shiver.

Blinking, he looks from the corner of his onyx-black eye at Aryia. "May that tree fall away from your house, then." The words are sluggish, as if he's still remembering the shape of them, but they're the right words in the right order. 'If you need distraction find your own current drama to embrace. Or fall into the sheltering arms of that Violet tallman-girl of yours.'

Remembering something, he looses a hand and snaps his fingers. The sharp clack is muffled by the soft leather of his fine gloves. 'They're making a massive abjuration ritual-- this Great Work. Safe money's on some sort of planar anchoring or isolation. Keep the demons out...' <sildanyari>

Aryia nods a bit. "I recall, someone told me about that. Happened before I got here." She glances to Seyardu, "I hope your brother is doing okay."

The mute frowns a bit. "Damn. That's... really disorienting. Sorry that happened, Jinks."

The elf of the group blinks, her tilting her head to the side. Clearly, she didn't understand whatever was said. Though, the later words get a flush to cross her face, hidden by the night. "... very well."

Though, her brows shoot skyward. "Wait, is... is that's what's going on with the Temples? Planar anchoring? Like... can't teleport in or out? Some shit like that?" The only reason she knew these terms was by osmosis through being around a book worm for so long the past few weeks. <Handspeech>

"I am happy to not have any drama today, outside of the temple being locked down, aside from trying to find wherever Cryosanthia purchased that scale polish from all that time ago, if it is still possible." The cleric sighs. "That does sound troubling, to lose eight years of memories such as that. But if you do not mind not knowing, and there is nothing bad, then there is nothing wrong with not knowing. Though that is difficult to discern with no memory."

The makari squints. "They are doing something like that? Surely not, and they thought things through. That would stop any and all teleportation, and the city relies on many critical deliveries on any given day. And failing that, the nobles would be angered they can not hire some wizard to gather wine from Charn or Merkabah whenever the please."

"It's a guess," Jinks admits, tilting his head slightly. "But one I'd be willing to put money on." He frees his other hand and crosses his arms, leaning back to look up and down the street before stepping in closer. It makes it harder to look the tallmen in their faces but enhances the conspiracy.

"The majority of the tasks to collect reagents are a misdirect; they're intentionally hiding the things they truly desire amongst busywork for chaff. The city officials have lost any and all faith in the Guild. Our final cock-up was the Duke's summoning in the fields outside of the city. Merek and Cesran were well-intentioned but unprepared; my second death was the least of the fallout. We're still useful but entirely untrusted; hence the cup-and-ball game...

"My investigations were interrupted by an unexpected stay in my ex's dungeons but I had liaisons enough with familiar People to determine that the ritual is of Abjuration magics on a fantastic and staggering scale. It's restriction magics and beyond complicated." He cranes his neck up to look between Aryia and Seyardu. "Given the context and recent, ongoing problems in the city-- hellwasps, archdemons, erinyes, tainted nobles-- my guess is creating a boundry between the prime material and the other spheres of reality."

Aryia frowns, her leaning in further. She didn't need to do that to hear the man, but still, this news was... Insightful.

And downright infuriating. "You've got to be /fucking/. Kidding. Me. /Seriously?!/" she gestures sharply, a massive scowl on her face, torch bright eyes growing in luminosity. "I guess a couple of big name fuck ups decides the fate of every other fucking person trying to actually /give/ a damn! So much fucking time /wasted!/

The mute is... increasingly irate. Her signging ceases as instead she hisses and snarls, walking off briefly while swearing to nothing in particular. She walks into an alleyway, out of sight.

...

A faint >th-th-thud, crack< could be heard. She'll be back soon, just needs to... let some steam off.<Handspeech>

Seyardu blinks, and squints at Jinks as he explains his theories. There is a long sigh from the cleric, and she shook her head. "They do not trust us to tell us this, that is what is the concern. And they have not proven themselvess to be trusssted with such power to begin with." She grumbles, the lisp creeping into her voice. "Thiss isss the ruling council who were incapable of dealing with the threat, who have attempted to kill an innocent persson, and only revoked thiss after monthss of forcing one of them into a geass, and were met with how much information that lord Altay wass a demon conssorting madman? The oness that have warehousesss of petrified people in them, with no one alarmed or concerned?"

Seyardu sees Aryia taking off, and she does not stop her. She simply sighs again.

Jinks watches Aryia go, his expression darkening. The gnome allows some of the exhaustion he's feeling leaden his eyelids and he shakes his head sadly. "We're too powerful and they're scared. There's so little oversight and a few of us could do considerable damage to the city without much effort expended." He wipes his face and sighs. "Un'eth turned herself into a dragon and leveled a city block without a second thought. The lot of us trying to stop the archdevil. Aya. Rupi and Sabrina...

"I agree with you. The watch and the council of Alexandria aren't blameless." The gnome's lips press into a thin line. "It might not be fair to people like you and Aryia but I was in the thick of it all; making wrong decisions. The whole way. Even when I thought I was helping.

"I just wanted to make sure this wasn't Hextus. I was worried something had wormed its way into the upper-echelons and corrupted them. United them to work towards something insidious. Like that Room. Like the sith-makar in that building."

Aryia is gone for a solid minute or so. The faint thudding coming from down the alleyway echoes off the walls. One poor student opens a window, a mousy halfling sticking their head out. "Hey! We're trying to sleep here!"

That seemed to put some sort of reality check back in the fuming pugilist, as there's the sound of someone spitting on the ground.

The mute walks out, most of her ire punched out of her. Her fists held a faint shimmer of silver hue before it fades away. She rejoins the group, looks aside, and purses her lips sideways. "... sorry," she signs, for her outburst.

It wasn't certain how much of the conversation she picked up from afar, but she's attentive, and more importantly, cooled off a few degrees. <Handspeech>

The cleric was still clearly frustrated, and she chuffs, but the worst of the frustration passes. "I have, I have strived to do my best to help people, ever since coming here. I have spent my days working with the Althean temple, and they close without an explanation why to me. And then the guards choose to act the same way to that child in the soldier's defence, they have not learned a single thing from their first botched execution. Yet I worry the magistrate in question will not listen to me either, due to my association with the adventurer's guild."

"The fiends did an excellent job. It was their goal to throw doubt on the adventurer guild. And they fell for it, despite how obvious the actions have been, especially at the mansion of that noble. But maybe they are right. I do not feel an ounce of sympathy for the nobles who had their homes destroyed by Un'eth trying to stop a duke of the lower planes from actually killing people. My only concern is them rebuilding with coin earned on the backs of others."

Jinks opens his mouth to speak but frowns instead. He offers Aryia a dismissive cant of the head at her apology and thinks for a moment. "I know it's abjuration and I'm certain it's from the restrictive sub-school. I don't know if anymore information can be gleaned from ingrediants alone but I have a few ideas with whom to further inquire." He squeezes his eyes shut, hard, and forces them open before blinking again.

"Very, very few people are in the inner circle on this ritual and that's enough to keep me worried-- even if this isn't the same thing going on in Hextus." The gnome waves a hand at Seyardu, "As you say; their judgement hasn't been without fault and the scope of this is-- without hyperbole-- awesome." Another, heavy sigh. "And the Resurrectionists still seek to bring a dead god back to life...

"None of this sits right; so many things coming to a head at the same time." The gnome pauses, thoughtfully licking his lips and tilts his head after making a decision. "I gave up the twins. Promised I'd never try to see them again if the marquess got them out of the city for a year. It might be an overreaction but it's something worth considering; getting your people to a safe distance."

Jinks clears his throat and thumbs the corner of his eye before nodding and heading westward.

Aryia sighs dejectedly at Seyardu's assement, as well as Jinks' synopsis. She kicks a stationary chunk of ice, sending it skittering down the road. "Yes. Get your people to safety," she echoes, thinking of Violet as he says that. And some other close companions... <Handspeech>