Wringing Water

Log Info

• Title: Wringing Water
• Emitter: Aya
• Characters: Aya, Aryia, Seyardu
• Place: TarRaCe Bathhouse
• Time: September 17th, 2021
• Summary: Aya is attempting to relax at the bathhouse, but finding such a task near impossible due to recent events. Aryia arrives, checking in on her sister. Seyardu comes in soon after, seeking refuge from the temples for a spell before Aya explains some of the recent events, including a thing or two she could not share before. Things get a touch heated as Aya turns her ire inward, but it is quickly directed elsewhere with the help of the other two. Aryia, perhaps in a small reminder that she too is a mul'neissa, suggests something diabolical, and insane. But. It was a suggestion that got the shadow monk's gears turning. She leaves in better spirits, not wanting to endanger the two with her presence overlong.

The weather is beginning to cool outside as the seasons start to shift. While that is one factor that makes the baths all the more pleasant, it is far from the only one justifying their use. A moment or two of stolen comfort and relaxation are never a bad thing.

Thus Aya lounges in the communal baths, covered in a minimum of cloth that was less donned intentionally and more not removed. The portion of pool in which she floats is not facing the entrance, but rather an empty corner of the room surrounding.

It should come to no surprise that another pads into the room. It is a public place, after all. Yet, it should be almost expected to see a scarred mul'neissa there. Her visage was drawn pensive, and unlike Aya, she was dressed for the occasion in her typical black swim trunks and chest wrap. She almost passed a divider to one of the more secluded spots, but the snaking of a long braid caught her attention.

She blinks, eases into a smile and pads on over. Towel and bag were tossed into a chair before she slips into the waters, sitting adjacent to her mentor, and her-

"S-st-r," she quietly greets.

Aya may be relaxing, judging by her somewhat vacant expression, though does so with her eyes open. The movement in her peripheral vision is noted, though it's not until the near-silent greeting that her head turns towards. There is a shift in her expression, a softening, though it falls short of even a slender smile.

"Sister. Are you here to further wring the water?"

That got a silent huff of a snerk out of Aryia, her giving a small yet sharp nod. She fidgets with the silver clasps on her ears, placing the six pieces of metal off to the side behind her as she scoots closer and leans over, resting her head on Aya's shoulder. "I knew I'd get you addicted," she cheekily gestures in front of them."

The dulled mood is clearly noted from just a flick of the eyes up, but it is not brought up just yet. <Handspeech>

Aya is improving, though the occupyig of her shoulder is not expected. The water may not be performing its duties properly, as Aryia's commandeered pillow is rather tense. It becomes slightly less so post-contact.

The adjacent head and eyes have returned to watching the corner join of benches across the water and room. The hand on her side opposite Aryia lifts, though, to gesture. "Thus I am now fated to an eventual shrivelled, watery doom from my indulgence." <handspeech>

Another breathy chortle. "May we forever be prunes," she motions slowly, letting her hand vanish into the warm waters to let the joke sit there, and to act on it. There is some silence, aside from the babbling of water and distant drone of the establishment the bathhouse was attached to.

From her perch, she looks up again at Aya, just a flick of her gaze and nothing more. A hand pats around under the water before finding Aya's and gently curling around it. There's a pensive, empathetic look on her face. "... I know you did everything you could for her," she tries to assuage, wanting to wring out what the water couldn't. <Handspeech>

There is a flicker, then; a shift in tensions on aya's face, a flex of her shoulder. Yet Aya still regards the far corner. Several moments pass before she speaks.

"Did I?" she asks aloud, as her formerly-signing hand lifts to gesture at where she's observed. "I could have done nothing at all and prevented this. Her betrayer would be a stain across the walls before having ever betrayed her. He would not know to seek her, and so would not have."

Aryia tightens her hold on the hand in hers. She doesn't really know what to say, her turning some from her perch on Aya's shoulder to glance at where she was gesturing. Not sure as to why that was, but she lets it be. Though the more she thought on the words, the more confused her visage became. "I... don't understand." She did not have all the pieces. <Handspeech>

Aya lowers her gesturing hand and nods slightly at Aryia's confusion. A breathe is exhaled slowly before she retakes it deeply to offer clarification.

"The night that we; you, Seyardu, and I, indulged here, with drink... I unbound my hair to dry it. I foolishly left the ribbon here. I sought to retrieve it the next day, yet encountered Sabina before I reached the baths. That is when I learned that Cryosanthia was missing."

Aryia flicks her eyes down. The little mote of warmth that the little strip of fabric was of import was smoothed out by reality. There's a soft 'ah' sound that comes from the mute woman. "... oh. Her too. I... was speaking with S-A-B-I-N-A a couple of days ago. And Seyardu. And R-U-P-I. I heard she was a dragon, and not in the best of shapes. As well as... other bad things." <Handspeech>

Aya listens, as it were, and dips her chin in a nod. "She became as a dragon when we were in the Sea of Mana. The ritual. She was as stricken as any other... but perhaps the power in her blood changed her to help shield her...?" It is purely speculation, and from someone who knows naught of dragons, and only little more of the sith-makar. "Cryosanthia is strong. She endured for a frotnight, on her own... while I believed her returned and resting..." A fresh exhale. "I believe that her body will heal..." Concern for the rest may linger, still.

Aryia sighs, listening to the explanation. Understanding it, but not comprehending the specifics. Seems like Aryia was perhaps a little behind on Aya in terms of knowledge on such topics. "... she is strong," she echoes, brows knitted, pensive as she looks down in the waters. She lightly kicks her feet from the their shared seat. Spare hand picking up what Aya left off, "x... and from what I can gather, we're all going to have to help heal her mind." <Handspeech>

The sleeves of many garments where easily paying for themselves. Were it not for them, Seyardu never would have convinced herself to spend the time going to the baths that day, with how much time it would take up. Of course, insistence from others helped. So the silver makari enterred the baths. She was going to the side as usual, but found two mul'niessa in the communal area. and so, she set down her bag on a chair, undid the breastplate she was wearing, and sat down at the waters edge while their clothes turned into a simple black bathing suit. She looked exhausted.

"Peace on your nests." She greets with a dip of her head.

Aya nods to acknowledge Seyardu, though only turns her head towards after. "I hope that there may be again, and soon," she responds before looking to Aryia. "It may be so," she admits before shifting her eyes back to the corner of room that has fascinated her.

"It was not until after we had retrieved her that I recalled my original reason to return. Thus I returned here, again, the next day, concerned that it might be lost, or taken..."

Aryia is sitting right next to Aya within the baths, head on her shoulder. Though it lifts as another soul joins the place of supposed relaxation. "Peace on your nest," she gestures back, beckoning the silverscale over and gesturing to a spot beside the mute shadow elf.

Her faintly shimmering gaze settles on Aya, squints a bit, then pivots off to where she was staring. She tilts her head to the side, gesturing with her eyes and a nudge of her head in that direction. <Handspeech>

Seyardu waded over in the water, and sat down nearby. after doing so her eyes almost immediately closed, only to snap open when she realized who she was speaking to.

"Ah. There will be Aya. I will do what I can to make it sure." She states, the uncertainty mercifully hidden by her kinds demeanor. "I hope I am not interrupting something."

"You are not," Aya assures Seyardu, though her eyes only shift partly in her direction. "It is appropriate that you are here. I am informing my sister of recent events. You deserve to know, as well."

While she is not as rigid, and the waters prevent similar chil, Aya's tense and neutral countenance could be a reasonable effort at Cryosanthia's reaction upon the ice with the Endless Winter's brief visit to the docks not so long ago.

"When I arrived, at last, for the ribbon, it was still here," she explains. "Yet so was he. The demon duke. He and his latest ... fool." Her head nods at the floor in the corner.

"It was right there that I sealed Little Fang's fate."

Aryia shakes her head at Seyardu, her reaching over to pat the silverscale on the shoulder as she settled in. Though, her brow furrows as she looks over to the spot in question. Her jaw tightens.

"You just existing doesn't do anything with anyone's fate," she tries to naively assuage, a hand wave off to the side. "His existence is enough to wreck havoc. And why does he care so much about this shit?" Anger started to seep in. "Doesn't he have better shit to do? Lackys to do this kind of thing?" <Handspeech>

Seyardu looks where Aya and Aryia did as well. She returns a pat to Aryia, creating a bizarre conga line of shoulder occupation. Though she does raise a brow, and hazard a smile.

"I did not know you were sisters." She says.

Pause.

A sigh. "That sounds nice. You going to find a gift from Aryia is know harm. It is no fault of yours they were here. Especially when they were dealing with someone else. I do agree with Aryia. They seem to take a very personal interest in affairs. You said the fool was not important until Lily is saved, as much as I would wish to know."

Aya gives Aryia's hand a squeeze as it settles back into the water. "Allow me to explain, and all will be more clear," she bids them both before continuing. Perhaps if she does not continue to press it out, the information may become... choked somewhere.

"His interest in others IS personal. Seldan, Serene, Cryosanthia, Zeke... they all stood against him, before, and we all rushed to Seldan's aid at the mocking ... gift. He sought to know more of his enemies; weaknesses, especially. He DID use lackeys... That is what he asked of me, and demanded of the other, who was not performing to expectations. He demanded that I join them, and then, to show how proper obedience appeared, to kneel before him. If I did not, he would spread the other across the walls and fill the baths with what was left."

A short, ragged inhale. "So I did as he demanded, if only to spare the fool."

Aryia gives a light smile to Seyardu. "It's a recent development. And welcome one," she motions with her spare hand, the other occupied.

The mute elf listens, casts her eyes down, and gives a long, long sigh. "So death regardless of anything." She pinches the bridge of her nose. "Again, even if you didn't, you'd end up on worse terms. Which would just cause more problems."

Aryia purses her lips. "Guess we can't talk about the others in unknown company," her fingers say before slapping into the water with an annoyed splash. <Handspeech>

"Aryia is correct, unfortunately." Seyardu sighs. "There was no success in that situation."

At that though, she shakes her head. "Nothing says obedience such as being forced to do something out of fear of the repurcussions. I believe what Aryia means is, for a powerful fiend, he sure has a lot of mortals and undead doing things. Not much in the actual way of fiends. I will, be careful of who I speak to as well."

Aya's head turns sharply and suddenly to Aryia, then Seyardu, and then back. Her control and bland visage crack; her mouth twists, a light flares in her eyes, and her tone sharpens to a razor. "No! I should have refused. Had I known the fool would be betray her, I would have refused, a hundred times over. Watched them die, a thousand times over. Faced the demons wrath, a- she is -family-!"

It burns hot and bright, yet unsustainably and her head drops to face the water. Yet she continues, in all but a whisper, or whimper. "I am her aunt, to her. Mentor in games of alertness and preparedness. Her nemesis. Tia Ay-ay. And I failed her. Twice! Then and when he came for her."

Aryia sit up rigid at the complete show of emotions that flew across her newly found sister's self. She pales a bit under the flames, shrinking away. But she blinks, heart picking up its pace as both hands come out of the water. She slides out from beside her sister to be in front of them, both scarred hands reaching out to hold their shoulders.

The pugilist bites her lip, but does her best with some gestures. "Aya. You. Didn't. Know. You deserve your anger. Your rage. Your sorrow. But this isn't. Your. Fault. It should not be directed at yourself, it should be at that prick. Both the one that betrayed, and that demon," she tries, eyes gleaming with mist before resuming her supportive hold on her mentor's shoulders. <Handspeech>

Seyardu sighs. She was angry, but more tired and sad at the same time.

"Aya, you speak of far too many hypotheticals. If the fool died and Lily was alright, you would not know if that had been the right choice. If both, it would be even worse, and they would find some other to manipulate."

"If you stood up there, you may not be here to stand up now, and make things right. You killed them yes? They may be back. But please, if you focus too much on what could have happened, you will not be in the present where we need you to save her.

Aya lifts her head, or is propped enough by Aryia to read Aryia's words. Initially, there is simply a nod. A rather long series of moments pass, where she simply.. breathes.

After perhaps a dozen such breaths, Aya straightens upright. "You are both right, of course. I cannot undo the past, but I can correct it in the future..."

Her expression does firm again, though not in rage, nor pain. It is something else as her eyes shift sharply to her sister. "I -did- direct all that upon him. Rage, pain, whatever rose in me... I made use of it. Empowered myself with it," she knows that Aryia will comprehend the meaning, "and I stuck him low..."

Seyardu's question draws her back. "I do not know. He is not mortal. He seemed to burn to ash, but was about to depart. If not slain, then wounded. Weakened? He is not invulnerable. That is ... some comfort."

A breath before she adds, "Whatever his state, I broke the arrangement made. Should he survive, he will seek me out for the payment due; the life spared."

Aryia looks at Aya, her giving an understanding nod at the meaning that was given. It was only just recently that the mute pugilist identified that feeling and how it could be utilized. She holds Aya there, giving her shoulders a gentle squeeze. Despite all the information shared, the only one that got Aryia's visage to drop a hint was the last part. "... I know you're careful. But please be so. If... I can help you any, like I've said last time, just let me know." <Handspeech>

"What life spared?" Seyardu asks. "If it is this fool, I do not see why you should care, as much as I hate to say it." Seyardu offers. "He didn't spare anyone you cared about after all, and if they die, then they are not seeking others to harm for them. And to be honest, any arrangements with such a miserable excuse for a living being is likely doomed to fail from the start, for anyone with a shred of empathy or morals. And you can be prepared, now."

"I will take care," Aya assures Aryia, "and I bid you do the same." Her composure is returned, though still with effort. A sigh slips through as she looks to Seyardu.

"No, the fool yet lives, to my knowledge. Were I to share who, that might quickly change, but I cannot. I am no longer bound to the agreement, but there was a separate threat against revealing the fool: the life of one with me at the colosseum ...festival. I will not risk a friend, and I will certainly not risk my sister." She then answers Seyardu's other question.

"The life spared was mine; the bargain my service to the demon in exchange. I was forbidden to stand against him, thus the contract broken. If he comes to collect, I would not have him do so in a crowd of those most important to me."

Aryia glances between Aya and Seyardu, her giving a nod to her sister. "I will try to be."

But as Aya talks. And talks. Aryia grows more and more pensive. A hand slipping off a shoulder to rest at her chin. She frowns deeply, disliking the thought that wormed its way into her head. But still... it was... not bad?

Her throat bobs. "... if... he's such a cocky prick... and... he wants to come collect..."

...

...

"...would that mean he could walk right into a trap?" <Handspeech>

"Forgive me for saying, but it's a pretty useless contract." Seyardu sighs. "Spare your life only to wish you were dead as they hurt everyone except yourself."

Seyardu sighs. "Without breaking that contract, he will just harm a friend who was not at the colosseum. Seems to be the way with them."

"It would have to be a strong trap to deal with him."

Aya lifts a brow at Aryia's suggestion. "You are devious. I love it. And you." A rapid series of short gestures, some even reflexive in nature. She then acknowledges Seyardu's points. 'It would take a great trap, indeed, and many involved. We may not know when he would arrive until he did so... though I agree with her premise: we may be able to use his goals and weaknesses to our own ends. Just as he seeks to do with others.' Aryia's idea is not bad, and it looks to have Aya's gears turning, as well. 'It is not so appealing a bargain, in hindsight, Seyardu, but when one is staring down a fiend, alone... I did what I must to survive, as would many others. Perhaps he expects this.' <handspeech>

Aryia blinks a bit from the quick flurry of gestures. Perplexed, brows knitted, she looks off to the side and raises a brow to herself. "Me?" she mouths to no one in particular.

She returns to the conversation, filing away that tidbit for later. "I don't think he would expect this," Aryia motions slowly. "We're... if he knows you have a way to end him, no matter how small a chance it may be, he may act directly and fast the moment he sees you. Regardless, this may be a way to trap him. It will require a lot of people but I'm pretty sure we know some strong people that can do that kind of stuff. Right?" she asks, tilting her head to the side. <Handspeech>

"I cannot say I would do so, especially given what I know now, but I understand. They seem content to show up whenever they see fit." Seyardu notes, causing a splash of water from a flick if their tail. "Confident. Confident at the baths that you could do nothing. At the colosseum that they could watch and leave when they please."

"So they need to keep that confidence, until it can be torn away from them. You have proven this once."

Aya dips her chin to both in a nod. "If nothing else, I believe that I dealt a blow to his ego. That may focus him upon me all the moreso, which can be put to use." She purses her lips and lifts herself from the water to sit on the ledge.

"It is also a risk. I should not linger with any one of you overly long. I do know several powerful individuals who would eagerly stand against him... unfortunately, nearly all are bedridden or otherwise crippled from the mana poisoning... as we stood against that threat, before."

Aryia's visage shifts into a more serious expression, a sharp nod coming forth. She slides forward as Aya slips out of the warm waters. Arms reach up, and uncaring that it would be a proverbial pick to Aya's otherwise stone-like facade, she gives a brief embrace. Lips whisper into a long ear, "Be well."

She pulls away, then plop back into the waters with a little splash. "Then we see to it to get them back into shape." A determined look crosses her features, as she gestures with a swing of a finger, a brief spelling of a name, then a fist hammering into an open palm. "For L-I-L-Y." <Handspeech>

A few cracks in that skin, perhaps; enough to make it flexible enough to, equally briefly, return the embrace. "Take great care, both of you," she notes as she stands before moving to briskly towel off and don her clothing. As much as she might wish to relax further, there is concern of bring harm to either of them. Not to mention the possible destruction of the baths. How would they ever maintain hope and morale were that to happen?

Yes, she may be mildly addicted.

-End Scene-