Divine Fortune

Log Info

• Title: Divine Fortune
• Emitter: Aryia
• Characters: Aryia, Verna, Glasha
• Place: Society for Progressive Arcanists
• Time: December 20th, 2021
• Summary: Aryia is studying up on the basics of teleportation after eating dirt trying to jump around like she normally can. Verna is inspecting her old stomping grounds after having been out of it for some time. The Mourner shares what she knows about teleporting magics, and inquires about the mute's family. Verna expresses concern over the undead being around in the city, but its a necessary evil. One thing leads to another, and Aryia gets a bit heated about divine fortune and favour getting her out of Charn. Verna gets up to leave, but Aryia flounders a bit and tries to smooth things over. It goes over well, and Aryia goes back to studying.

Society for Progressive Arcanists, Early Afternoon.

Silent snow flurries waft across windows into the place of learning. Unlike most of the city, where the general atmosphere is elated and glad of recent developments. In these halls, annoyance reins. The mages.

Are.

Walking.

Such indolence! No summoned familiars to carry out tasks, no invisible forces to fetch books. They had to do it themselves.

So, rightfully, most are a bit annoyed.

Annoyed for somehow similar reasons is a scarred mul'neissa woman. She has her hands on the sides of her head as torch-bright eyes scan page after page of the open tome in front of her. She's sitting at an aside table with a few tomes stacked nearby, and her eyes twitches faintly. She had a headache alright, but this time it was from information overload.

Not all magi are, or at least appear to be, so annoyed. Verna may believe that a modicum of humility never harmed any. Hubris, however, has caused or contributed to any number of unpleasant situations and outcomes.

The Sage Mourner has been relatively absent from the Society libraries as of late. Relatively, yet not, it seems, totally. She makes her way amidst the shelves and seating when she spies a face quite familiar, yet very much not so in the current geographical context.

Aryia flips through a few more pages, unaware of Verna's appearance as she was so engrossed in trying to comprehend what was in front of her. Though, there's a silent groan, eyes roll back, and she slides down her chair until her head was level with the table.

She affords a moment to breath, then glances about. Spotting the Mourner finally, she raises a lousy hand in greeting, her not picking herself up just yet from her slouchy poise.

Verna was already heading Aryiawards when the destination greets her, in un-energetically. Her head tilts at this before she inquires somatically, "A long evening with your parents? You appear somewhat ... less than motivated."

Aryia sits upright, scowls, and cuts right to the chase by signing back, "No. Did you know that the jumping thing I can do is /apparently/ teleporting?!" The mute groans, a hand meeting her face that reddens slightly. "... I fucking ate pavement in front of a bunch of people trying to show off." <Handspeech>

Verna pauses at this information to consider. An initial suggestion is quick to be offered that may sound suspciously similar to her medical prognoses. "Perhaps it best that you not attempt to show off without practice or verification prior? I am not aware of the full details of your 'jumping thing' abilities, yet it would be a reasonable correlation. The instantaneous or nearly-so relocation from one point in space to another is the definition of teleportation. There are a number of spells or effects of varying magnitude within that scope, all of which may bear differing names that are not explicitly 'teleport.'"

Aryia colors further. "I-I didn't know it was that!" she bemoans. "I just thought I was running and jumping really far, not teleporting."

She groans, face plants into the tome, and heavily sighs. The mute stays there for a moment before pulling her head up. "I'm just learning about teleporting stuff, or what it entails, just so I don't snap my arm again from this city effect."

Another sigh, and she rubs at her face before signing with the other one. "But, I'll keep that in mind. Thank you. Aside from that, dealing with my parents has been... an experience. They're nice, but shit, is it hard for them to rein it in. That damn Shadow keeps following me around." <Handspeech>

Verna takes a moment to doff her hood before resuming her gestures, regardless of having closed to quiet verbal conversation range now. "I intended no offense. While your disinterest, dislike, or even distrust in magic or those who use it, the manipulation of mana comes in mana forms."

One hand gestures to her in simple indication. "The inherited powers of your blood, the gifts that I presume are from Eluna, and even abilities from your training. All may differ in application and acquisition, but their power all derives from the same source. Thus, some effect that affects the source would affect all."

On the matter of parents, she offers a knowing nod: as much that she is well aware of ... overbearing or excessive parents rather than Aryia's own, specifically. "I presume they do not intend upset, but you need not tolerate any more than you wish to. If there are aspects that cause discomfort, make them aware. I am loathe to have the shadow about the city, for numerous reasons. It would also behoove them that it not be discovered."

Aryia sighs and nods. "I figured as much. It's all magic, just in different ways. Even though some of the things I can do with my body don't really feel like magic. It's just me. But perhaps that me is magic too?"

She shakes her head, and rubs at her face. "I know, I know. They've been good about staying away when I need space, and sticking to my current name."

The mute nods slowly, closing the tome in front of her. "They are very well aware. And they are very careful with Lingers in Passing. With how much the shadows are involved with my parents, it'd harm mother if she dismissed them." <Handspeech>

Verna ahs softly at the last, her first audible remark, follwed by a nod. "I do not wish your mother ill, of course. Mine own holds a monopoly on such. I am pleased that they act respectfully to both you and the city."

Concerning the magic, she lifts and lowers one shoulder. "As it is innate to you, I doubt such would feel unusual nor dramatic. In the same manner that I expect a dragon that exhales fire would not consider it unusual."

Aryia sighs, idly looking to her hand. A tinge of shade manifests, it dripping out to spill across the table before vanishing. The shadows on her face darken faintly. "Yes, they don't want to make any waves. Whatever happened to them in Charn has them quite... paranoid. About as bad as me. They have no intentions of causing any strife."

The mute considers that perspective. "... that is a good point. But I can't help but feel at a loss when I use this-" Her hand splays out, the shade from before banishing to give off a silvery moonlit glow. "It feels so strange. But it feels like its a part of me. Or... something. I don't know. You think Eluna might have had a part in this. I think so too. My parents only deal in shadows. This has never came up."

She snaps her fingers, a mote of moonlight sparking off of it. At the same time, shimmery faint lines of silver appear around the outside of her eyes on her face. Then fade.

"They are at a loss too." <Handspeech>

"There is the rhetoric that that 'deities work in mysterious ways,'" Verna notes. "While vague and perhaps overused, the term is not necessarily inaccurate. We may be able to presume that Eluna is the source, I cannot presume to know the reasons nor intent behind such. Perhaps it is enough that you are entrusted with that gift, thus, by extention, your use of such is also trusted."

Aryia sits upright more, torch-bright gaze flicking between the signs that Verna uses and her visage. Though, she snorts at that. "Entrusting it with me? That's... a rather risky move. Especially if that's what made me and my family fall from grace, so to speak."

She pushes her thumbs into ther temples for a moment before silently groaning. "For fuck's sake I wish the temples were fucking open..." she bemoans. <Handspeech>

Verna returns with a nod, along with a pursing of her lips before she continues. "I would prefer the temples re-opened, as well, yet I understand something of the cause behind it. After warnings of corruption and infiltration, action is is now taken across the city. Harsh, perhaps, but a temporary inconvenience for thoroughness is not extreme. The preventative abjurations upon the city are but one example."

There is a pause before and after she looks to Aryia directly. "That change was for the better, or so most would believe. Myself, I believe yourself, and perhaps even your parents, included. As well, you all survived it. That is no small feat of fortune; perhaps one bordering upon divine favor."

Walking through from one building to another, Glasha waves at Verna, who she knows. She then flutters her hand a bit, just barely managing, "Don't mind me." Luna lets out a gronk noise from the top of Glasha's greataxe that she carries like a staff. <handspeech>

Aryia grumbles, crossing one arm over herself while the other motions. "Yes. But if they take too long, then the common folk will turn to other places to worship. The Defense can't hold the whole city's woes. The Society can't function properly. Nobles are going to be pissy that they can't have what they want immediately. I'm mostly just annoyed that the one time I need answers from a fucking temple, I can't go there for them."

The mute blinks, then watches Verna.

Her brows knit. "Divine favor?" she repeat, incredulous. She scoffs, and scowls deeper. "There was no fucking fortune in that. Need I remind you that it's this divine chess game that made me go through a fuck load of torture? /I/ got through it all. No favor, no fortune. Me and my parents both goth through it on our own."

She was still, at heart, atheist.

The mul'neissa heated words make her ignore the newcomer. She was staring down Verna, her eyes bright.

Though, Verna knew Aryia wasn't mad at her. It was just decades of built up frustration bubbling up. <Handspeech>

Verna is not ignorant of Glasha's gesture, though her attention is focused elsewhere at the moment. Namely upon Aryia, though she does not immediately respond to either. Her expression is flat as she simply regards Aryia for a long moment before she lifts her hands.

"Your beliefs are your own, Aryia," she signs cripsly. "The cause of your ordeal; the means of your arrival here; whether that trial is completed or merely awaiting the next step... these are also yours to interperet. I can only speak to my own observations..."

A pause as her expression firms. " I am grateful that I did not meet you upon the slab, that you discovered your parents, that they sought you. I am grateful to my Mistress that your time has not yet come, whether She was involved directly or not."

With that Verna lowers her hands and turns to step away.

Aryia's expression goes from firm. To blank. To worried. The mute was too blunt sometimes. And was a bonified master of shoving her foot in her mouth.

Then the Mourner turns to go. The mute quickly rises and moves to be within Verna's line of sight. But not line of exit. "W-Wait, shit, Verna, I..." she quickly signs, guilt on her features. "... I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to blow up on you..."

She sighs sharply, a hand smacking against her face. You idiot mul. <Handspeech>

Verna's steps were not quick, and certainly not moreso than Aryia's. As the fullblood semi-interposes, Verna pauses. "No offense was intended, nor taken. I merely wished to express my gratitude that are alive and well. That your family is alive and well, even if the situation is not ideal, unusual, or complicated. Whatever the means, the end justifies them, in my opinion."

Aryia bites her tongue and folds her hands together. Forcing herself to think before speaking for once. Small shards of the past collect and fill in the missing blanks, of times where she's faltered and blundered, and had to dig herself out of her own hole.

Head starting to pound, she presses on. Hands unfold.

"I value your insight over most others," she starts out. "And I'm glad things unfolded in such a way that I was able to meet you, and my parents to meet you, all alive and well."

A breath, and she stands straighter, hazarding a step closer. "Your theories and your thoughts on these complicated subjects, offering them without prompting, or any thing else. That's how you show that you care. And I'm sorry for taking that gratitude and crushing it. I didn't mean to, and I let my personal frustrations of the past couple of weeks boil over."

She folds her hands in front of her, and bows her head. <Handspeech>

"You crushed nothing, " Verna assures her verbally (though not loudly), as the hand that moves comes to rest upon Aryia's shoulder rather than gesture. Still, perhaps, information is conveyed. "As well, perhaps I make a preferable target for your ire? I expect you do not wish to send your parents away so soon, and I would not wish such vented to " she shifts to finger-spelling with her spare hand "V-I-O-L-E-T."

This sparks a thought and she inquires. "I do not suppose that the three of them have yet been introduced?"

Aryia visibly relaxes as Verna reassures her, it felt on the hand on the shoulder. "I wouldn't want to vent unto you without warning. I just... feel like I overstepped my bounds. And, no, I don't want to send my parents away. There's too many things I need to talk with them about."

She blinks, then pales slightly. "... no. Not yet. We have reservations for dinner soon. That's going to be... something..." she signs nervously. <Handspeech>

Verna gives the fullblood's shoulder a pat and then retrieves her hand. All the easier to respond. "Both sides care for and respect you, so far as I know. That should be enough," she offers. Following a moment for further consideration, she admits, "It may also make each strive to ensure the other is worthy of you and is not somehow a threat." Another pause before "I wish you good fortune in that endeavor."

The idea of both sides having to outstrive the other makes a bit of sweat appear on Aryia's brow. She nervously chuckles, and tugs and her collar. "... yes, I am going to need that fortune. It's... going to be quite the dinner..."

She rubs at her face slowly, her stepping back to the table and sitting down. "Just a normal dinner with two ex-politians and my human girlfriend. It's going to be a... very fun dinner."

A long sigh. "... right. I shouldn't keep you, I need to get back to reading up on this stuff. Thank you for your company." She weakly smiles.<Handspeech>

"You survived far worse, by your own wits," Verna notes with a shift of expression to a smile that she hopes is encouraging. "Thank you, and I will let you return to your studies. I would be interested to hear the details of your ... very fun dinner in the future." She turns and moves to depart.

Aryia groans silently. "I will be sure to regale you once it's over. Perhaps over a drink. Or three. I'm going to need it. Fiends and undead? I can deal with that. Dinner with my parents to meet my girlfriend? I'd rather crawl into a hole."

The mute bolsters herself, sits upright, and returns the smile. "See you later, friend." <Handspeech>

-End Scene-