Tornmawr Torpedo

Southern Banks of the Tornmawr, Early Afternoon

The sun beats down in a haze between cloudy skies, them the only shade that lazily strolls by on the hazy day. That, and the looming bridge behind the sprawling bank, littered with sandbars and wharfs of those drinking in the day and returning fishermen.

Jammed into one of the sandbar shores is a large umbrella that casts its own wide shade. The shelter is occupied by a heavily scarred mul'neissa woman in shorts and a tank top, bare feet stuck in the cool waters, and a half empty bottle of some dark liquor in hand.

Though her gaze has its own shades, it's clear she's spacing out, a sewing kit open next to her yet untouched.

Culix is on the shores of the Tornmawr once again, once again taking refuge from the sun in the shade of its span. This time, however, she has her eyes peeled for suspicious hourglasses, for some reason. She doesn't spy one- but she does spy a familiar scar or seven, and then lifts her hand to offer a wave Aryia's way. The gobber is wrapped up, despite the warmth, a little sweat a small price to pay to shade her skin from the rays of the sun. She makes her way along the water's edge towards Aryia after waving her greeting.

Last time Eztli's lazy trip down the river was rudely interrupted, so the small makari had to make a return trip another day to make up for it. The mottled lizard was rafting down the tornmawr lazily in a two piece blue swimsuit, with an almost comically large bottle of alcohol held over their stomach. The sorceress does wave to Aryia and Culix as she nears, also scanning the sand something or other.

Another hot day, another time to cool off... and clean off. Lacking an umbrella, a verdant one-eyed oruch sits on the wet edge of the bank in a few inches of water. Her skirt gets sodden from this, but that just makes for extended cooling later on the walk, right. A few other articles are held in hand to be dunked into the water between her knees and scrunched-scrubbed against itself. Laundry day once more, or maybe resumes after being interrupted upstream.

A vague log like shape was floating along the river. It was probably not much to usually look at - probable driftwood always floats along. However...

... there was a flaming torch of some sort burning brightly. It takes a bit longer, but then the driftwood turns around; and sometime later the small well wrapped package is also visible on top of the vaguely ruddy orange raft.

Aryia doesn't wave back to the others. Doesn't move. Not even an ear flick as the others approach closer. Perhaps it was the ruddy drftwood crowned with a torch. Or maybe a boat docking nearby. Something or another breaks the mul out of her reverie, hand tightening on the bottle before a large exhale Out signals that she was even breathing.

She looks around. Realizes she's surrounded by people she mostly knows, and gives a slow and surprised wave.

The torch-raft gets her attention fully, seeing as it wasn't manned, and she wades out towards it. Not wanting it to turn towards the oruch woman who was just out there doing her dang laundry. Laundry is very important.

Culix offers a return of Eztli's wave, and she's about to speak to grab Aryia's attention when her own is grabbed by the floating... thing? She frowns, "Why does weird stuff keep happening here?" she asks no one in particular, and then follows alongside Aryia. She pauses to take off her shoes, and tries to roll up her pants but they are too tight and she gives up before jogging to catch up. "Careful, last time we opened a mysterious package it had my brother's head in it. Which exploded." she reminds Aryia.

GAME: Eztli rolls perception: (8)+5: 13

Eztli stops floating, less abruptly than last time, and she manages to paddle closer to shore using her tail somewhat like a propeller. "Seems wanted to make good on the beach time they felt they lost." She snorts loudly. "And don't worry about that questionable flotsam there, I'm pretty sure I know what that is, and he can stay under for at least an hour. Still, a little concerning, what, were you trying to stare without being noticed?"

It doesn't take _too_ much of wading to realize what the flaming torch raft was - indeed, it was very obvious what it was. A particularly ruddy sith-makar holding onto a piece of driftwood. Lazily, that tail continued to sway left and right. The flaming torch also turned out to be a flaming glaive with few red ribbons.

Either way, Aelwyn was on his typically successfully inefficient courier missions - this time floating face down down along the river like downed driftwood from downtown.

Aryia waves Culix's warning off. "If it's something like that, this time I'm not going to be a little bitch and keel over from it," she gestures back in half jest. She glances to Eztli, quirking a brow briefly before staring at the supposed driftwood. "Staring? At what? Wait, what time is it--?" she glances up to the sky. Frowns. Scratches her head. "The fuck?"

Sighing, she drops her gaze from up on high down to the makari-driftwood. Aryia thinks for a beat, nods to herself, and then quickly submerges herself into the flowing waters, vanishing below.

Something seems to be approaching the living raft at great speed from underneath them. <Handspeech/Tongues>

GAME: Culix rolls perception: (10)+13: 23

Culix tilts her head quizically at Eztli, and then peers back towards the driftwood and Ooohs as she realizes what- or rather who- it is. "Think he's checking out your tail?" she asks Eztli with a grin and a wink before turning back just in time to see Aryia turn herself into a Sith-seeking torpedo. She decides to stay back, and simply watch events unfold for the time being. She does, however, catch a glimpse of Bryn and offer her a wave. They met in rather unusual circumstances, so the lanky oruch has stuck with Culix. She begins heading on over that way, keeping one eye on the driftwood.

"Yeah, maybe. You know, swimsuit." Eztli replies with a chuckle waving to the oruch who was still washing their things on the riverbank. "You want some help with that in a bit? Might be easier witth magic."

"Well, whatever happens, should be amusing right? Glad I've got something to drink this time." Eztli muses, popping the cork on her bottle and taking a long swig. "Think he'll notice in time?"

The driftwood continues to float - or circle in some sort of current - with the tail lazily swaying. There doesn't seem to be any reaction from the said driftwood as Aryia starts speeding through under the water.

Up until at some point Aelwyn suddenly hoists his head up with a loud a gasp and inhale and he looks around, sprawling. "There are predators in these waters?" He asks from the beach, trying to half way clamber atop the drift wood.

It's an eerie bout of silence after Aelwyn proffers his question. Then-

A spray of river water explodes out from under the ruddy scaled makari as he is hoisted aggressively into the air! Airborne for some feet, coupled with the drenched mul underneath with a wicked grin plastering her face.

Gravity kicks back in, and the duo fall back into the river- or, rather they must have found a small sandbar? The mute hasn't fallen back in, landing hard as the water splashes and laps laps at her feet. She's still holding Aelwyn over her head like some kind of prize, grinning.

"It's a nice swimsuit." Culix offers Eztli although most of her attention is still on Aelwyn and the disaster waiting to befall him. She cackles when the Sith is snagged and hoisted out of the water like some kind of prize catch, "That might be a record! The fishermen will be jealous!" she calls out towards them.

"Yes, horrible river monsters here that absolutely hate the thought of flames invading their pristine waters. Were you too focused on other things or nothing at all to realize?" Eztli teases the makari as they clamber up on the log.

"Well, I suppose Aelwyn can't complain too much about being a prized catch, as long as it's a catch and release kind of thing." She laughs. "You just got thatmuch air with him like it's nothing!"

Aelwyn looks down at the water for a time - and then he explodes into the air, making a moment of flailing. "WHAAAAAAAAT-" He shouts as he is flung up into the air. Waving his arms and tail, he then lets out a loud grunt and growl as he is held up in the air.

"Oof." Aelwyn makes a lazy wipe of his tail, trying to wriggle half-heartedly in the mul's grasp. "Usually this one either gets sweet words or bottles of alcohol for this kind of stunt." He tells Aryia. "... is the package still on this one's back?"

Bryn looks over at Eztli at the question and shrugs her shoulders. "Nothin much else to do. Easy enough to just wash 'em. Do people really put magic on their u-ahh!" She starts as the log that isn't one is launched out of the water. She turns towards and stands up before getting enough of an inkling to stay put and wait.

Aryia seems to be completely satisfied with the results of her shenanigans as she holds Aelwyn aloft. She nods towards Culix and Eztli in recognition of their outbursts, before peering up at the makari's back.

She nods once at him, patting the package before placing him down on the... the..? Where was that sandbar? The mute looks down at her feet. Blinks. There is no sandbar.

Gravity seems to reclaim her, as she flails and sinks back into the river with a splash, haphazardly tossing Aelwyn over towards the shore with the others.

Culix awkwardly trudges out of the way of the incoming Sith-Makar projectile launched her way by the sinking Aryia, and then shields herself against the inevitable splash. Once she is safe from falling Aelwyn, she calls out to Bryn again,

"You should check out the TarRaCe. Pay for a bath and they throw in laundry for free." she suggests. "I know the owner, I bet I can get her to give you a discount." she adds with a wink.

"I'm not sure, should probably take a look right?" Eztli admits, taking a look around just to make sure in case it did drop. Or went flying elsewhere when aelwyn did. Pause. Blink. "The hells is that Aryia? Water isn't supposed to work like that. That bird observer better not be doing tests unannounced again."

Some time is spent squinting, and the sorceress sighs, and flops onto her back. "Nah, I think it's just Aryia being weird tthis time, too colorful right now, even for a mul'niessa." She muses. "Why not use magic to clean if you can? Beats scrubbing out dirt and stains by hand I say."

Aelwyn gets tossed onto the beach - and then he rolls and rolls and rolls, up until he stops good distance away with a quiet flop. He was covered head to toe in wet sand now, and it takes him and his now doused glaive a moment to get up. "... well, this one has had worse time flying." He rumbles as he gets back onto his feet.

The package, now covered in sand, is nearby and he quickly grabs it. "Tch, this one better run. This one shall call to all later to enjoy the heat!" He waves with a flash of his not sand covered teeth, and makes a run for the stairs up to the bridge. The now flattened package might explain his rush.

Bryn sees Aelwyn is alright enough (maybe less so his package?) to run off. So, no worries there, then. She looks to the half-familiar gobber. "Bath? and laundry, huh? and discounts? What's the catch?" To Eztli she gives another shrug. "Good enough when ya have the magic for it. What about when you don't?" a glance is made to the river to see if the sunken one resurfaces, and whether or not anyone else might be tossed in the process.

Aryia was quick to resurface, moon-hued hair plastered on her face as sheer perplexion is etched upon it. "I don't know, I don't know," a hand repeats, flicking at the side of her head before she bats at the surface of the water. An after thought of a wave good-bye to Aelwyn as given as she spends a good moment pawing at where she was standing.

She returns to the trio, drenched from head to toe with her arms crossed as she stares a hole at where she was. "What bird observer thing?" she suspiciously inquires with slow gestures, the intention understood even if the words were not. <Handspeech/Tongues>

Culix nods her head, "Baths, laundry and a hot meal." she says then. "No catch, well, small catch. There's a shark that lives in the baths. But she's friendly, and hardly ever bites." Culix insists. "I'll show you the place later, if you like." she suggests. And then her eyes catch Aryia's hands moving and she turns to read the hand signs. "Oh, yeah, some... thing. I think probably an extraplanar thing- although I dunno how it got post the wards- stuck a few of us in some kind of time-freeze. Just to see how we'd react." she fills Aryia in.

"That's, ah. Sorry, Aelwyn." The small makari winces. "Hope it wasn't too important, or at least easily replaceable." Eztli sighs. "Caught without magic? I guess well, it isn't a problem for me. Just find someone else that can do it? Surprised wizards haven't taken over the laundry industry already, but I guess they've got better things to do."

"Yeah, some thing that looked like a raven but spoke like a kid. Caught us all here and interrupted our time at the river, which is why I think we're all back here today to get what we wanted done, like relaxing in the river."

Bryn eyes Culix concerning the small catch and considers a moment before she grins tuskily. "Risked more'n a few bites for a meal most days." Her amusement is cut short at the mention of the bird.. kid.. thing. "S'why I'm here washing. That sort of weird happen alot here?"

Somehow the talk of a time messing bird grabs Aryia's attention more than that of her somehow standing atop moving water. She blinks, brow furrowing into a serious scowl. Only to let off at the mention it was a small bird. "I've dealt with a time fuckery bird before. But it was something else, way fucking bigger than a raven, and it was hunting down something that slipped through another timeline that was a copy of me. It obliterated it into nothing."

She looks around, cautious. "This doesn't sound like that, but-- don't trust that shit. The time loop was brain melting to deal with."

Turning toward the oruch woman, she gives a hefty shrug. "Kind of. That though- not really. Your usual weird, not like... that weird." <Handspeech/Tongues>

Bryn eyes Aryia dubiously for a long moment. Maybe three. "What is usual weird for her? Walkin on water? Waving your hands 'n me gettin what that means? Throwing lizards? Talking birds?" There is some incredulity there, but also more genuine curiosity than sarcasm. "Been here two days and seen alot of weird. Even gettin here was weird."

Culix watches Aryia's hands move, and she frowns a bit, "Alright, now I'm reconsidering trying to thieve that hourglass if I see it again." she admits finally. "Much as I didn't like getting experimented on, it would be useful to be able to freeze everyone else in time. Could get up to all sorts of trouble." she muses but then looks over to Bryn, and shrugs, "Mmmm, less weird since the wards went up, but weirder than most places." she says. "Yesterday was, I'd say, weirder than average for inside the city walls. But about on par for average when it comes to guild contracts." she explains.

"Right! Right, you were there, weren't you." Eztli exclaims as she stands up proper on the shores, slapping the side of her head. "I mentioned that when it happened, I read the report from the guild when the resurrectionists were talking about their current plans one time. Sounded like nasty business, and I wasn't sure if experiments like that would cause something to get ornery like what happened there."

"Which is exactly why you shouldn't thieve something like that, Culix. Boatload of trouble." The makari snorts. "It's a weird city, but what city isn't weird? Yesterday was an outlier, though. Aryia's just a special case though. Like, I don't know how to describe it, but don't piss her off because you won't survive it. Only reason I feel slightly sort of safe teasing her is because I can fly fast enough that I don't think she can jump to reach me unless a tall enough building or tree is nearby."

Aryia throws her hands up in true surrender under Bryn's scrutiny. "Hey. I can explain the hand waving bit but I can't fuckin tell you what happened over there. Shit, I spaced out for a solid four hours now the sun's at its height." A pause. "... maybe its related to that?" she muses, rubbing her chin. Says the not-weird weird mul'neissa.

Her attention is pulled back to the conversation at hand. "Oh, yes, don't touch something like that. But... maybe it deals with the something the Resurrectionists are doing." She's lacking her shades, having left them at the umbrella, so Eztli gets a full fledge glowing eyed stare. "If that helps you sleep at night." <Handspeech/Tongues>

"Maybe just too much sun," Brynn nods with Aryia. "Ye look a li'l burnt." She turns to Eztli before teeth protude more from her grin. "Try not to piss people off. Got it. Good think to try. Succeedin is a whole different thing." With the weirdness sort of qualified and defined, she glances around at the river and city above. "This place doesn't get boring much, does it?"

Culix holds her hands up defensively, "I said I was thinking about it. Not that I'd actually do it." she insists then. "'sides, I don't much like getting experimented on." she adds with a frown. She cracks a grin at Bryn, "No, no it does not." she asserts.

Eztli says, “Eztli stares back, and laughs. "Sleep well here? nah, I'm used to it. I don't particularly like being experimented on, either." She answers. "Only reason I say I feel safe here is because I know no one can teleport. Unless they just made up you can teleport for the books, which they might've. They tend to stretch the truth a lot."

"Nope, never a dull moment here, keeps you on edge, though." Eztli nods. "If they manage to make washing clothes interesting, that's no small feat, is it?"”

Aryia quirks a brow at Bryn, the mute apparently on some other train of thought before shaking her head, focusing on whatever the conversation was now. "It is entertaining, that is for certain." A look is returned to Eztli. Her hands rise. Fall. Rise. Then hang loose as she sighs, shaking her head. "I'd prefer less edge, but, whatever."

She looks back up at the sun, to her feet, wiggles toes in the water before jamming a thumb over her shoulder. "Right, well, good to see you all, nice to meet you, name's A-R-Y-I-A," she signs to Bryn. "Now that the excitement is over, I have a very busy schedule and I have to get back to it. Have a good one."

The mul-torpedo ambles back the distance towards her umbrella in the sand, lays down on her back, and takes a large swig of the bottle. A large strawhat gets placed on her face. Very busy indeed. <Handspeech/Tongues>