Hot Ones

Log Info

• Title: Hot Ones

• Emitter: Telamon

• Characters: Morgan, Ravenstongue, Telamon

• Place: A14 - Society for Progressive Arcanists

• Summary: Telamon and Ravenstongue are back in the library studying to make more headway on the Watcher in the Stars. Morgan is there, too, attending to her librarian duties until she has to leave to track down more wayward books. Ravenstongue and Telamon discuss their plans to imbibe a shared dreams potion in order to investigate this Watcher in Telamon's dreams. Meanwhile, Pothy eats hot wings and lives to tell the tale.

-=--=--=--=--=--=<* A14: Society for Progressive Arcanists *>=--=--=--=--=--=-

The central courtyard of the Arcane Society is a large and sprawling affair within the heart of the city. Soaring marble pillars reach upward to the sky, four sets of three, evenly spaced apart as the massive columns form a rough circle, each trio of pillars warding a particular direction. Carved into the smooth stone floor within the center of the atrium is a massive circle within the ceiling itself, which opens always to the stars, in honor of Eluna, the Goddess of Light Magic. Taara, the Goddess of the Dark, is given no such honors.

The central courtyard radiates outwards into paths, leading through the exotic gardens of the Society. One extends to the Library, another to the College of Magic. Another path leads off to a small, rather plain looking building between the two colleges, most likely the dormitory for the students, and yet another for the famous Cafeteria. Numerous magi can be seen walking back and forth most hours of the day and night here, with familiars or other odder creatures roaming about, most of them in the latest styles, as dictated by Madame Gelfure, the a more social head than the Society has had in most of its history. Myriad scents and aromas can also be sensed, some delightful, others repugnant, others quite colorful as apprentices and magi alike go about their experiments. Arguments are not unheard of, and even the most "dignified" of magi might be seen from time to time, in a pique of anger, waving an agitated hand to teleport the disagreeable person to the top of the nearest tower.

-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=- Dramatis Personae =--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-    
Morgan               4'10"    79 Lb      Half-Elf          Female    Short pixy like half elf with fair skin                                    
Ravenstongue         5'0"     99 Lb      Half-Elf          Female    Short half-elf girl with violet eyes and black hair.                       
Telamon              5'6"     140 Lb     Half-Elf          Male      A platinum-blond half-sil man with dancing dark eyes                       
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-

The goals have changed, but the methods remain the same. Collect tomes, study for necessary information, transcribe as needed. Tedious, but progress is being made.

Telamon sits at the table again, his brow furrowed deeply as he jots down notes from a book on oneiromancy. "Let's see," he mumbles a bit absently. "Mixed silver and cold iron, sanctified, for the circle, that'll ward off undue infuences. Small bag of purified sand to sustain slumber while we're dreaming..." He pauses to rub his face, his eyes a bit sunken and set in dark circles. "Coffee for afterwards. Definitely coffee." He yawns, stretching his arms over his head, running a hand through his hair as he peers at the notes taken so far.

Coffee? He said the magic word. Ravenstongue sits down next to him with two cups of library-approved drinking vessels for students who need the caffeine but don't need the fines for damaged books. "Cold iron, huh? Don't mention to Grandfather that we'll be getting some of that or he'll be upset," she says, pushing a cup of coffee over to Tel. It's the way he likes it, and she takes a sip of hers, loaded with cream and sugar.

"That's what I should have asked Aryia to get. Something so we can have coffee at home," Ravenstongue says thoughtfully, looking at her cup of coffee. "Tea is easy enough. Coffee requires extra steps."

Morgan comes in from the entrance with a full load of book that reaches her chin that she is using to keep the pile under control. Placing them on a table "I so wish casters would return the books they take." said as she grumbles before the books seem to move on their own to the book cases they belong.

Telamon nods, smiling at Raven thankfully before taking a big sip. "I know it'd irritate him, but the fact is there's some fey who slink around the edges and we don't need them paying us any visits. We'll make sure to clean up before his next visit." He looks thoughtful. "Although... I had originally thought we'd have Pothy keep an eye on us. If Grandfather could be convinced to do so, we could leave off the cold iron."

He takes another sip, eyes thoughtful. "Ironically, the shared-dream potion wasn't hard to research -- I've already commissioned an alchemist to compound a few doses. It's a variant on the multifarious panacea spell."

When Morgan comes by, carrying books, he winces. "Yes, Lady Morgan, but you also complain when they put them in the wrong places..."

"Grandfather would be more than happy to help, I would think," Ravenstongue says, the thoughtful expression still present on her face. "Goodness knows he'd at least be interested in our research. Overly curious man that he is..."

She smirks a little. "Somehow I'm not surprised you already found a solution for dream sharing. Both a testament to your research skill and also the mortal propensity to engage in religious ceremony. It sounds something vaguely like Lady Eluna's portfolio, after all."

Then finally, she spots Morgan and she gives the fellow feytouched a smile and a wave, followed by a little frown. "Really? People should always have the sense to put things back. At least if people put things in the wrong spots, they've made an attempt to do the right thing, and I think that's a bit noble, at least."

Morgan gives a joking stern look to Telamon "There has been a system set up before we were born." But every one knows its her job to put the books back. She then takes a seat at the Libaran area "Well Most think its my job to go to their homes and get the said books."

"How are they getting them out? The last time I saw someone try to smuggle a book out the results were pretty spectacular?" Telamon shakes his head. "I mean, I know it's a magician's college, but you'd think it'd be hard to subvert the wards."

He leans back in his chair, looking to Raven. "See if he'd be up for it. Obviously, this is 'one night' -- gods only know how long it might feel for us, but it should only last the night outside the dream -- but I don't want him having problems." He colors a little at Raven's praise. "I mean, the panacea spell allows the user to have a lucid dream. From there the trick is to make it so two people can share it."

"Grandfather should be fine if he comes over and stays the night," Ravenstongue says. "He's done it a few times in the past. Mostly to insist he had to sing me a lullaby to help me sleep, then he'd wake me on the morning and fly away--and my apartment would be clean, too."

She thinks on that for just a moment before she says, "I should invite him over more for a night stay more often now we've got our house together. Free house cleaning's nothing to sneeze at."

Ravenstongue frowns deeply at the notion of books leaving. "Shouldn't people who take the books home be threatened with expulsion or something? Unless you're talking about faculty taking books--I've heard of that happening, and I imagine that's a pain to convince some of the instructors here to bring them back. More brains than sense."

Morgan nods "Normaly for the more dangerous ones, but for the common ones as long as you bring them back." said as a little dragon flys in and lands at her desk. "Wow really thank you." said as she gets a small treat from a pouch and offers it to it. "Sory you two I have to go, I have a lead on some more books." With that she rushes off leaving the dragon to take a nap on said desk.

Telamon watches Morgan hurry off. "Her work is never done," he comments with a wry grin. "Alright, look these over and see if there's anything you think I've missed." He pushes his notes over to Raven.

The notes detail a two-part process: the protective aspect, and the shared-dream part. The latter is fairly simple -- drinking a dose of the same potion, and sleeping in close proximity. The protective warding is a bit more complex, involving powdered silver in a circle around the bed as well as markings at the four cardinal points (painstakingly reproduced in his notes) to guide the sleepers on their journey.

"Poor Morgan," Ravenstongue echoes. "She works pretty hard for this place." But she turns her eyes to the notes and begins to read them over.

"Hmm," she says after a long moment. "Good thing we're sharing a bed these days, or we'd need way more silver--although I would have happily hopped into bed with you to save on material costs. Imagine if that was the first time we slept together."

Her face reddens as she realizes what she's said. "In the chaste manner!" she adds hastily.

Telamon covers his mouth and has a brief, desperate struggle to not laugh at Raven's blurted-out faux pas. After a minute, he manages to speak. "I didn't add it into the notes, but the book I found specifically states that 'intimacies should be refrained from'." He can't help but grin impishly at her. "Not that I'd object either, but... sadly, this is important."

He taps a point on the notes. "We'll also need a small quantity of purified sand to sustain the effect... that'll keep it from wearing off. The ritual does end 'when the barque of the highest returns to the skies'. That means sunrise."

Ravenstongue is still blushing, no thanks to Tel's comment. "Well, that's easy--unless they mean no cuddling or hand-holding, too, in which case that's sad," she says, a tiny pout forming on her face. "That's been my favorite part."

She looks at the point on his notes when he indicates and taps her chin thoughtfully. "In other words, we should probably take the potion right when the sun is completely down in the sky. So we have as much time as possible to get our bearings."

Telamon nods. "We can't take it till the sun has set anyways. But after that we shouldn't wait long." He slides another sheet out. "This was from one of the books we were looking at last time, and it made references to 'guides through dreams' and 'the strange prince'. Supposedly, they help guide sleeping mortals, and can be asked to assist. So we may be able to find some help in... wherever we wind up in the dream."

He smiles. "I'm not going to say it'll be easy, or pleasant, but I think we can do this."

"The strange prince?" Ravenstongue takes a longer look at the sheet, the curiosity almost overflowing in her eyes. One might assume the phrase appeals to some whimsical notion in her. (Especially considering the literature she's been reading lately.)

"Guides through dreams... I wonder," she says, "if maybe we'll find a solution for all of this, too. The Sky-Singer and the Tyrant both appeared to me in the dream, too, so..."

Ravenstongue sighs, leaning into Telamon. "This is a lot," she admits, "but it's not so much so long as I'm with you."

Telamon slides his arm around Raven, and presses a kiss to her temple. "We have to hope. What's the point, otherwise?" He gives her a squeeze, holding her against him. "Regardless, I want to turn over a copy of my notes and research to the temple of Eluna, just in case. They might be able to make use of it as well."

He strokes Raven's cheek, tipping her face toward his. "Regardless, I'm happy to have you with me -- dreams or otherwise. It would be a lot lonelier without you."

Ravenstongue happily hums a little as Telamon holds her and kisses her temple, her eyes closing for a moment in the safety of his embrace. "I think," she says, "they'd either think you're a genius or a fool--and I think in some way you are both of those things."

There's Ravenstongue's poetic tongue slipping out again. Her eyes flitter open again and she smiles warmly at him, her face so close to his. "It's not only the loneliness for me, Tel," she says. "You've simply made me feel happier than... Well, almost happier than anything else I've ever felt. My younger self never would have believed I would be sitting here right now with someone I loved and who loved me in return. In many ways, just this would have been one of my wildest dreams... Sitting with a pretty boy in a library and he's not calling me names." She grins.

Telamon strokes her hair, his touch gentle. "I had it easier than you, but... this was something I didn't expect. Didn't think would happen. To be honest I expected after I'd spent some time on my own, that mother would try to matchmake for me. I'm so grateful that they like you, and that we can give you a -family-."

He grins back at her, and mock-grumbles. "Someone called you names? That's cause for a duel, I say! Ten paces, and I get to use magic on them!"

"I'm sure your mother would have found you a nice and tolerable lady with not nearly so much of a sad backstory and a moderate amount of wealth from another trading family," Ravenstongue says with a little smirk. "Instead you're marrying into 'fey nobility'--for what that's worth. We should probably arrange for that meeting between Grandfather and your parents soon, just to make sure they're alright with it--but otherwise, I think it's a certainty."

She nods a little. "That actually did happen once," she says, a little soberly. "I slipped out of the house when I was a teenager--I think mother gave me money to go buy food at the market, and she encouraged me to try and do something else. So I stopped at our little library, and there was a boy there who, I admit, was a little handsome. I approached him because I wanted the book he was holding and he told me... Well, an unkind thing, and so I left."

Telamon nods. "I... admit I'm nervous about that. Mother might be a bit blase about it, but father, well... hopefully it won't be too much of an issue." He arches an eyebrow. "I've never married into nobility before. What's it like being a noble, anyways?"

At the mention of 'unkind thing', Telamon's face becomes... set. He doesn't scowl, but the last time he had that expression it was followed up him launching fiery death. But it subsides, and he lets out a grumpy sound. "Hmph. Well, his loss. I -know- what I've got, and I'm happy to have you. What book was it, anyways?"

"I have no clue, speaking as 'fey nobility'," Ravenstongue replies with a snicker. "Grandfather has opted out and just spends his days in Quelynos tending to his house and gardens, from everything he's said. Occasionally he gets an invitation to a party and he has to go, but those are seldom. Only once a century or two. So I don't think I'll be spirited away for one anytime soon."

She pats his shoulder, smiling a little to see him presumably imagining burning the boy from her story into a little crisp. "It was a book called Swords Down when the Work is Done. I read it a while back. Not really very well written, in my opinion. I think the author was getting paid per word and it showed. Plus the heroine of that book was a complete airhead--she existed entirely for the protagonist to ogle and drool over." She grins. "Maybe that was why that boy was reading it."

Telamon snorts. "Could be. There was a booming business in 'copper dreadfuls' in Ylvaliel and elsewhere -- and the authors, most of whom could barely string a sentence together, were being paid by the word or the page." He grins widely, a memory bubbling up. "Father hosted a party once where he had a selection of some of the worst ones he could find, and the challenge was to read one aloud, as long as you could, without losing your composure. Uncle Telgari won that one, but only because he did all the reading in this ridiculous Jade Islands accent."

"I would have loved to have been there," Ravenstongue says with a grin. She puts her hand back on her cup of coffee, lifting it up to her mouth but not yet taking a sip. "How bad are we talking? Vaguely pornographic? At least The Princess's Lover is somewhat competently written."

She takes a sip of her coffee. It's still plenty warm. "Do you know what happened to my copy, by the way?" she asks. "I finished it the other night and it's gone and disappeared. I wasn't really looking to reread it--maybe I would have traded it in at the book store for another book--but I thought it was odd."

Telamon snickers. "No, it was generally bottom of the barrel writing. Prose so purple you could use it for a royal tunic. I suspect it was about on a par with the Crimson Pen books. Oh, there was SOME content of dubious morality, but overall it was just -bad-."

He raises his eyebrows at the mention of her book vanishing. "I glanced at it, but, ah... let's just say what I saw wouldn't win any noble grants. I left it on the kitchen table. Did Aryia pick it up, perchance? I could see her grabbing it as part of some prank..."

"Maybe Pothy stole it for his book nest," Ravenstongue says thoughtfully. "He likes to roost on top of books--that's why that corner in my room just has a bunch of awful books all piled up and he sleeps there. He's done that forever."

More coffee intake. She sets her mug down onto the table. "He does keep saying something about being a keeper of knowledge, so I guess that makes sense. I'm pretty certain the only knowledge he has is food knowledge, though. He'll remember things about my mother, for instance, and sometimes some of my ancestors that inherited them, but generally only if food's involved."

Telamon hmms. "I wonder if you could train him to remember certain details by bribing him with snacks? You know, give him a sweetroll and have him memorize certain texts." He pauses. "...Then again, he doesn't know how to write, so he might not know how to read either. That... might be a problem."

He steeples his fingers. "But yeah. He might collect books you don't like, use them for nesting and roosting, figuring you don't want them any more. If you've lost anything, that might be the first place to start looking."

"He knows how to read," Ravenstongue says. "He'll read over my shoulder and tell me that it's boring because it doesn't talk about food, and then he'll beg me for snacks--"

Her eyes widen and she bolts up from her chair. "Oh gods. Speaking of which, it's been too quiet. Pothy? Pothy?" she calls out for the white raven--

And Pothy's found a little silk pillow someone left out of consideration for wizard familiars on top of a bookshelf. He's snoozing away... next to a pile of... small bones? At least until Raven calls his name, that is, then he wakes up and whistles at her.

"Sorry I woke you up--where did you get chicken wings from?" Ravenstongue asks, befuddled.

Another whistle. Ravenstongue sighs. She looks back at Telamon and says, "Apparently, Pothy found a student in the courtyard and gave him the beggy eyes until he was given a few chicken wings. Incorrigible."

Telamon gets to his feet as well. "How can he read and not know how to write?" he remarks. When Raven locates Pothy after a few panicked moments, he raises his eyebrows quizzically. "Wait, he begged a student for... chicken? I can't help but feel like that's some sort of avian cannibalism, somehow." He just shakes his head. "Pothy, you should try to clean up after yourself. Drop the bones in a trash bin or something." His expression is amused, as he steps up next to Raven. "Were these those 'hell-fire' wings they were talking about in the dining hall a short time ago?" he wonders.

"My guess is that it's hard to write with a beak," Ravenstongue says. "I'm sure he could probably learn if he worked at it--but it's easier to stuff your mouth than it is to learn to write."

She grins a little as she looks at Telamon. "He's a little gross, isn't he? He'll happily eat chicken, pheasant, quail... I suppose wild ravens do it all the time, so he feels it's not off limits to him. Right, Pothy?"

Pothy whistles and Ravenstongue blanches. "I'm not even repeating that. Let's keep that desire to know what people taste like under wraps."

Pothy looks down at the bones by his pillow at Telamon's lecture. He picks them up and swoops over to a nearby bin, dropping them in--

And then he lands on Telamon's shoulder with his flight back. And he burps in Telamon's ear. "Tasty hellfire," he says, imitating Ravenstongue and then Telamon with the first and second words.

Telamon chuckles. "Well, most of that family of birds is notoriously un-picky about their meals, so... makes sense, I guess." He looks thoughtful. "Maybe he should start with something a little less finicky with a pencil. A small paintbrush might be easier for him to manage." He watches approvingly as Pothy disposes of the bones, then smiles as the raven alights on his shoulder. "I'm amazed you could take it. Spicy food is definitely not my forte." He reaches up to pet Pothy gently.

Pothy nuzzles into Telamon's hand as he's being pet. He whistles again, and Ravenstongue grins.

"He says that you're one of his favorite people--and that it's okay you can't handle spicy food," Ravenstongue translates.

Then Pothy whistles again and Ravenstongue pouts. "Hey! We're not weak because neither of us like spicy food! It's a preference, Pothy!" she says.

Pothy laughs. "Haw-haw-haw-haw-haw." It's his usual pompous nobleman's laugh, of course.

Ravenstongue sighs as she looks at Telamon instead of her rude bird. "I fear what he could do if we had him start to paint. Maybe he'd paint food--and then he'd try to eat it."

Telamon smirks. "It seems to be common among certain elves, and passed down to any half-elven progeny. Oruch, on the other hand, think it's -grand- fun to try and kill each other with the hottest peppers they can find." He grins. "Yes, that was part of that infamous trip I told you about."

He looks contemplative. "He doesn't need to paint -things-. I'm thinking the formal lettering style used in some sildanyari books -- calligraphy. Just a bit larger. Once he gets used to it then maybe we can work with a pencil or quill."

"Probably for the best you didn't get with that oruch girl after all," Ravenstongue says, returning his smirk. "After all, you would have been subjected to a lifetime of spicy pepper torture."

Pothy, meanwhile, has tired of this conversation. He looks at Ravenstongue and whistles--then he takes flight off Telamon's shoulder into the dining hall.

"Oh! Oh no," Ravenstongue says. She takes a glance at her cup of coffee and downs it, then starts after him. "I better go make sure he doesn't start taking food off people's plates. Care to join us?" she asks Telamon, flashing him a smile despite the sudden chaos Pothy's created.

Telamon grabs his coffee and knocks it back as well. "Or he gets into a tussle with another familiar. I think I saw a student going in there with an owl." He hurriedly snatches up his notes, stuffing them into a pocket as he hurries to catch up with Raven. "He really is a handful, isn't he?"