Faith and Magic

[Finn]

Ymiden 45, Arc 718

Do you believe in magic? So much so you would taste it's alluring depths? For some reason, people of Ne'haer did not appreciate that curiosity so much so anyone who actually ventured to learn the art was looked at with suspicion. Finn did not remember that kind of caution last time he was around no matter how short the stay. He did not recall people being so...afraid. Now that he joined the Faithful, he had an insight into the religion of Ne'haer itself and its stance towards the matter. It troubled him.
Finn looked ahead, at the innocent flowers with vibrant colours painting picture in the hot cycle's sun. He was sat in Lochgrass Gardens in one of the quieter spots just so he could think. Of course, he could have stayed in the Temple of All Gods to do his thinking. Yet, it did not feel right to do so. Perhaps because he was initiated into magic himself arcs ago but no one of his new colleagues knew. Perhaps, he just wanted to leave his workplace for a change. He wondered what Telar would say and whether he knew of this inclination when they came to Ne'haer over an arc ago. But more importantly, Finn tried to gauge how strong all these feelings against magic were. Would it affect residents and visitors in the city? Would magic eventually be prosecuted like a crime? Rynmere has already taken steps against magic and Finn did not like that at all. Was there something he could do to prevent the same happening in Ne'haer? Alarmingly, some in power in Ne'haer already showed tendencies to making a similar decision.
Huffing, the priest shifted in his on the bench to a slightly more comfortable position. In the heat, he could already feel little diamonds of sweat on his back. Thankfully, he was wearing a simple white woollen shirt with his sleeves rolled up above the elbows to cope with the rising temperature, unintentionally showcasing the sleeve tattoo on his left arm.

[Jonathan Burr]

Jonathan was hot. It was so damn warm everywhere and there just wasn't escaping it. Every breath he pulled into his lungs seemed warmer than what he let out. It was like he was heating himself up from the inside, and there was only one way to get any sort of relief. The Lochgrass Gardens were a shield from the Ymiden sun. All of those large green leaves soaked up the sun and the constant waterings from the gardeners kept the area humid and moist. The moisture evaporated and kept things cool. Gods the pools there looked so inviting, Jon wanted to dangle his feet in them so badly as he entered the gardens and walked past them. More so now than ever, because of what his mutations now required.

A large swath of gauze covered the bottom half of his face and the back of his neck. It hid the seam in his lips, where the Aberration mutation had given him a vertical mouth slit in addition to the one he was born with. While it was fun for flinging open his mouth wide like some Emean horror, or grasping a pencil in one triangular appendage while he worked, it was a little startling to encounter. It was the same for the long sleeves he wore to hide the large encrustations of topaz on his arms. It was murder in the heat. He ached to strip everything off and let the sun shine through the crystals on his arm and back. He didn't dare, not with the Faithful around and the fear of magic alive and well....and getting worse by the day. It was even worse for an Aberrant like himself. Someone hated.

Jon headed toward a quiet corner of the gardens. There were a lot of people in the garden at this time of day looking for some relief from the heat. He wanted some peace. Unfortunately, peace was occupied by another man. He sighed through his nose...it was the coolest spot. He had to tolerate a little company. Jon settled down on the flagstones, avoiding the bench the other sat at, and removed the gauze from his face. He leaned his head back, wiping sweat from his mouth and chin. Gods, it felt so good to get that off. The huge furrow on his face was fully visible, but damn everyone. It could be explained away as an old wound.

"Talkin"

[Finn]

The heat made it hard to focus and Finn wasn't geared to crack the case in a matter of minutes. So when his solitude got interrupted quietly, he noticed. What he failed to do was hide his surprise upon seeing the man and the particularity of, what Finn could only guess, was an injury. It looked to be quite an extensive one which made the priest wonder. From his experience, anyone with any wound spread over their body like this would not walk around. The hospital would not let them. Unless it was burn marks. But even then, Finn would choose not to cover them in bandages and risk peeling of blisters. Odd...
Averting his eyes before he could be accused of staring, Finn realized his great comfort of the bench and the opting of the stranger fo a rock. Nope! Finn would not have that if this man was injured or suffering some sort of illness. Moreover, he probably should get back to the temple.
With the newly found resolution, Finn got up from his seat, discarding the thoughts of magic and faith to offer his seat to this stranger. He did it just as the man took off some of the bandages, revealing a face that the priest was quite taken aback by. This time he was staring, caught off guard.
He couldn’t help it. He’s never seen anything like that before. Not even when he was volunteering an arc ago after the shadow beast attack or during his pilgrimage. Just what on earth happened to this lad? Was he a soldier?
Not being schooled in magic as much as he’d like to, he did not recognize this as a side effect of aberration. Nor would he ever imagine any magic being this aggressive to the human body. If he did, he would question why would anyone put themselves through it. To him, this looked painful.
“Excuse me.” Finn said as he approached the stranger. “Feel free to take the seat over there. It’ll be more comfortable than the rock.” He said pointing at the bench. Now at least he could look at the man’s face directly without appearing too much like a staring creep. There was something fascinating about the split on his face.

[Jonathan Burr]

Well he would have had a relaxing time if not for the staring. He understood the face split was a little rough for people to understand. He got a lot of mixed reactions. Mostly pity, from people thinking he had suffered some great evil. Sometimes revulsion from others who thought it was a horrible thing to look like that. He really didn't like either. In his opinion the split in his face was nothing short of interesting if not miraculous. Mutations were as unique as the mages who acquired them, and it was a sign that he and Hob were drawing closer. In a way it was a badge of his skill as an Aberrant. A skilled mage, not yet gone mad by the magic everyone claimed would drive him to it.

Jon took a moment to examine the other. He looked like some sort of priest. Of course, the type to be about healing and pity. They were usually such an insufferable lot; always talking down to people from a pedestal. He had come to the gardens to cool down in peace and quiet, not get stared at. When the priest approached him he looked up at Finn with a tired look. Really, what did it matter if his face looked a bit odd now? It certainly didn't warrant a special seat like an invalid.

The mischievous part of him wanted to fuck with this one a little. He sighed, and smirked. He let the furrow in his face spread a little bit as one side of his mouth stretched into the smirk. His bottom lip split open, creating a wide V in which his lower teeth, gums, and part of the flesh on his chin and cheeks were fully visible. "I'm not a cripple, I'm fine." he told Finn. "Just trying to get out of the heat much the same way you are, I'd expect."

"Talkin"

[Finn]

Oh shit. Whatever Finn just saw did not comply with any of the assumptions he's made a moment ago. It sure as hell did not look like a wound anymore. The controlled manipulation of the flesh was more than aching nerves or arbitrary weakness of the flesh. Although Finn wasn't sure how to feel about the display, he managed to hold it together without pulling faces or staring even more. He realized that his unspoken intrigue with the man's...appearance probably translated wrongly across the distance.
“I did not assume you were. Well, maybe I thought that was an injury, but it clearly isn’t.” Finn responded, explaining himself. There was no judgement, nor annoyance for having his offer declined. He then followed with a nod to agree.
“Yeah, it is getting pretty much unbearable.” That marked the end of the staring which most likely caused the man to feel uncomfortable. To break the stare, Finn drifted his gaze upwards at the sky hiding behind the vibrant green leaves that soaked up much of the heat for their benefit. Finn took to silence for a brief second to give himself a fresh start at this interaction.
“So...if I am to guess that that is not an injury...mind me asking what happened?” The curiosity was innocent and not meant to be intrusive but of course, it was always up to every individual's interpretation and Finn would take the risk if it meant he could learn to understand. It was more than what many others would do.

[Jonathan Burr]

Jon settled back down, amused at the surprise written all over the other's face. Jon was a rather mischievous soul,and he liked getting reactions out of people. Of course the priest would have a little more restrained reaction to his face than others, but he was also right. Jon was in no pain, there was no blood, and while his lips split sharply with no soft curves to soften the gate-like squareness of their closing, there was no blood. He considered his answer, well aware he could say...practically anything. Freak axe accident. Got into a staring contest with a Becomer. Some blithering alchemist wanting to make a cure for harelips. Pretty much anything except what it was; Hob inscribing his own features on to Jon's face. To be fair, he wasn't so sure he hadn't had an equal affect on Hob. Hob had been more...contemplative, as of late. More emotional, and carefully feeling out Jon's emotions on a subject through their bond. It was strange for them both.

Jon nodded in agreement about the heat, letting his lips button themselves up. He had discovered one peculiar trick after watching Hob; the Harvester spread his lips and jaws wide to evaporate heat from his mouth and large ears. He'd been tempted to try it himself, even if he didn't have the powerful heat-distributing powers of Hob's large ears. Instead he was constrained to the very human behaviors of trying to fan himself off, and desperately wishing he could strip nude and join the fish in the little ponds. "I don't know how you priests do it. You'd think the heat combined with the robes and your own yammering in your temples would drive you all to climb the walls." he commented, glancing at Finn. "I'm getting hot just looking at you in that get up." He of course hadn't meant it sexually but he threw a grin Finn's way just to complicate matters.

"What happened to my face? I don't really know." That was honest, at least. He didn't know why the magic had chosen that particular mutation. Hob had jokingly suggested it was the Harvester proclivity to use their mouths as a weapon...or perhaps the spark had just known Jon's favourite activity to do with his lips. Next his tongue would split. Jon thought it might have run deeper than that; as far as he could tell he and Hob had something most Aberrants didn't: communication. They talked endlessly and about all sorts of things. They studied one another. Jon was learning Hob's body language just as Hob was commanding Common better and better every day. He barely stumbled over larger words, and showed an interest in learning some human written tongues. Maybe the mouth, the way Harvesters signalled and men talked, was the first sign of that.

"Talkin"

[Finn]

The man’s response to Finn’s clothing earned a throaty snippet of laughter. Finn was surprised himself that he's not yet evaporated or collapsed from a heat stroke. “To be fair, I don't know either. It is a pain sometimes, but hey, what can you do. Don’t think the Faith or the rest of the people would appreciate us walking around half naked.” Was that a jab back at the subtle inappropriate hint that the strange dropped in the middle of the conversation? Nah. How could a priest do that? Such a religious man... But his lips stayed curled in a hint of a smile that lacked anything remotely connected to flirting.
From the first few seconds of their interaction when Finn felt like he would be poking a sensitive nerve with every word, this man was turning out to be a bit more relaxed than he thought. Something Finn was grateful for. It was a nice change to others who would look up to him, expect him to solve their issues if not fix the world itself with a click of fingers. And if he failed, or if he was perceived to fail then consequences were harsh. But not as harsh as when someone either suffers amnesia or chooses to keep certain cards up their sleeves.
Not knowing how one ends up with a gash across their face that looks like a result of a mad scientist playing an almighty, now that was something that clearly did not make sense. And Finn regarded it with a raised eyebrow and a mixed look. His eyes landed on the stranger softly but with curiosity and a hint of a doubt. Of course, the memory could have been suppressed, but not much gave Finn the impression that this man was through a traumatic experience. At the same time, he knew better than most that it is possible to hide memories and their effects on us if we are truly desperate.
“Right…” Finn started, not sounding convinced and making up his mind whether to push for an answer. “Well, it whatever it is, however you got it, you can do quite a few tricks with it.” He decided to lay back. He believed that if people wanted to tell him things they would on their own accord as long as Finn bred trust. Unless there was more to this than selective memory and it was indeed the very priestly robes he was wearing that would dissuade them from speaking their mind. Because then, there was an entirely new explanation for the look of the four-lipped man...

[Jonathan Burr]

Jon laughed. "The Faith. They're so hung up on things like that. Not showing your body and keeping yourself contained. It doesn't make you any happier or any closer to the Immortals." he smiled at Finn. He liked that the man was jabbing back at him. It showed he had a little more spine than the average priest. A little more vigor. Jon appreciated that. "The Faith can all go drown themselves. Or get tied to a stake and barbecued." He stretched, settling closer to the cooling spray of the pond. He eyed the other man when he made reference to the fact he could do tricks with his face. Was that...was that flirting? He knew the kind of tricks most men wanted him to do with them. He stood up and made his way over to the priest, smirking. Maybe it was time to have a little fun. Priests tended to be uptight about this sort of thing.

"Oh there are a lot of tricks I can do with this mouth." He purred. He leaned in to Finn, his hands settling on either side of the priest's seat. "And I do know a place that's a little cooler than this garden. Requires you shedding those robes, though." His voice was low, sultry. Jon was playing a joke; he wasn't truly propositioning Finn. But he liked the game anyway. There was very little else to do on a hot day, and the Ne'haer bathhouses seemed like a cool, relaxing way to beat the heat. Jon played with his lips a little, lifting one side of his upper lip and tangling it with the other side. "So what do you say, priest?"

[Finn]

To contain ourselves. The idea of happiness put in that context…. Finn had to contemplate the man’s words for a moment, a thoughtful expression replacing the smirk that he had a moment ago. Whatever the man’s perception of faith was in general, it was not the same as Finn’s which was fair enough but what concerned the priest was the over-generalisation that the stranger has committed himself to. Then, hearing the other speak so harshly about the Faith...partly it made sense, partly it added to Finn’s wonder and somewhat concern. Was that the general perception? Finn had to admit that there were ways in which Faith has overstepped its boundaries and that even he did not agree with. But if they have already been affecting people’s idea of themselves to this degree then the Faith was walking a much finer line than any of them realised.
“The clothes is just a symbol. Like a baker wears an apron, or soldier a chain mail. We priests got to wear something that distinguishes us from the rest as well.” Finn decided to address the man’s proclamation matter-of-factly. “I don’t see it as a way of getting closer to the Immortals. Just a way to dress when I got to go to work.” He shrugged. Really, believing in Immortals for him did not come from the clothes he had on his back.
But before he could address the open wish of death upon his colleagues, most likely him included, suddenly the stranger was up close. For a second, it took Finn to clock what was happening and why. He totally got the hint. But that lip trick made him more fascinated with the deformation than excited. At the end of the day, he was not cheering for the same team. He was more about curves he could hold onto.
Chuckling lightly, he shook his head. “I say, you are teasing the wrong man.” His eyes looked directly into his. The greys rich in shades and intense. Comfortable with his own orientation and the situation itself, it did not bother Finn whoever this man preferred to seduce. But it would not be him today.
“But honestly. How did you get that?” He nudged his head at the lips because now he saw them up close and he could see that it did not look like any type of injury he’s seen before. That made Finn wonder about the other possibilities that crossed his mind earlier.
“The Faith is in the temple.” A hidden message to soften a strike he might regret. But he was more than just a priest who decided to join a faction that turned out to be less than what he expected. He refused to follow in every single step that the Faith has decided for him.

[Oberan]

Review Rewards

The non-O'Connor Finn

Points awarded: 15

Knowledge:

Detection: Magic scribes itself into skin
Psychology: Evading by distraction
Seduction: Innuendos in words
Discipline: Stay focused
Persuasion: Promise safety
Interrogation: Ask directly
Teaching: Difference in symbols
Discipline: Don't take things personally
Etiquette: Don't stare at people
Detection: Magic effect on body can look like wounds

Jonathan Burr: Must be mage
Jonathan Burr: Might be into men
Jonathan Burr: Strange wound-like effects on his body
The Faithful: Not seen so favourably

Magic: No magic exp

Other: N/A


Burr-Burr

Points awarded: 15

Knowledge: None requested

Magic: No magic exp

Other: N/A

Notes:
I've probably said this before, but the split lip thing really creeps me out. So I can totally understand the "sickened but curious" reaction Finn had towards it. I like that Jon, while being a bit of a dick, didn't go into full asshole mode against a priest who only wanted to help. Though wishing death upon an entire faith might be a bit much? Though I don't know Burr's circumstances that well, so perhaps it's valid. Either way, good writing from the both of you.

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