• Open • Fortune Favors the Bold

[Cirrina]

28th of Cylus, 719

It was cold. It was dark. The people of the city were worried, it was written on each of their foreign, human faces. There had been whispers of people disappearing, curious but not something she truly cared about, what the land dwellers did was their own concern. But, she knew better than to waste an opportunity. Times like these were perfect for her, desperation, the need to something they could control but wouldn’t because Cirrina would not allow it. In the bones, in her words, she was one in control.

And misery loved company, the tense atmosphere was one she enjoyed. It prickled the hair on her arms, a sensation that never got old, made people twitchy and nervous even when she nothing more than a benign human. A part of her could almost feel sorry for them, prayer to deities that wouldn’t listen and didn’t care but mostly she was disgusted by their blind, obedient, deplorable faith.

Idly she leaned back in her chair, tumbling the bones between her fingers, enjoyed the smooth edges as they reminded her of when they had flesh. Right before she sucked them clean. In the bright light of the library they gleamed against her skin but most of the legged ones paid no notice yet. They were still far too busy with the dark like it would wretch them from their homes and spirit them away. Granted, they were not wrong considering it had done just that. A slow smile curved her lips, one she did not bother to mute as none truly paid attention to her yet. Listening to the murmurs she knew she’d have no better moment than now, and hadn’t Marin told her to talk to people in the city? He’d never said how. Specifications were important.

Smile sharpening into a smirk Cirrina let her eyes fall shut, tuning out the noise instead of in for once. A simple act that calmed her own over eagerness into something less dangerous, far more manageable so she could focus truly on the notes around her, not the useless words that spilled from their lips.

As always, it was like hearing her own private symphony, pulling it up from within her then spreading it to tap against the nearby notes to hear their songs as well. When she opened her eyes it was not the pointless drivel she heard, but the disarray of harmonica notes all around her. Now she just had to pick one. A slow process to prod at each person around her, to sift through the sounds to find the crisp, sweet note of loss that she was looking for or the note of bland, flat, out of tune desperation. But she would find one, or they would come to her, entranced or disturbed by the bones in her hands.

And then, she would ruin them more with simple words. Plucking apart their music until the notes were silenced.

[Rakvald]

Rakvald felt one emotion over all others as he travelled the terraces of desnind. Apprehension, fear, abject terror at the lowering of every branch. While he was climbing the terraces to get to the upper boughs of Desnind, he half expected the bark to swallow him whole. It was something of an adjustment to get used to the idea of plantlife that wasn’t out to kill you, as it did in Quacia with the Creep. He’d only met a Creepborne once, in a past life. It was a true horror, that was the only way to describe it. Perhaps that fear of vegetation and what it could become Is what prompted him to stay there for so many generations. That kind of accumulated apprehension wasn’t easy to dismiss on the assurance that the plants weren’t going to kill him. It’d take a while to deconstruct.

His instinct was to warn the people, to protect them. Every moment a branch lowered to graze his forehead, he jumped. When he saw them swaying to reach another person in that crowded terrace, he nearly lost his composure and spoke out. It came out as a half-clipped ”Gah.” every now and again. He wondered if the other people there thought he was oafish.

He’d lost a good deal of weight since falling on hard times in Quacia. The less food he had, the more jittery the forest made him. At least if he had a good meal, he could feel at ease. As it was, he hadn’t a good rasher of pork in trials and trials. Almost the entirety of Cylus had passed since he stepped foot in his old home. As for his belly, it rumbled, empty, as he watched and waited, killing time.

He turned every once in a while to look at a person entering. Each time he saw someone moving through a beaded curtain that served as a doorway, he half expected a Creepborne to pop through it. He gasped audibly everytime. Without fail.

Perhaps this wasn’t the best choice of destination for him.

A bough grazed his shoulder, and he jumped, gasping as he bumbled through a beaded curtain tinto an empty cavity, spacious enough to be a home. There, he found himself in the belly of a tree. Had the creep taken him!? What was this, and who was this strange woman smiling at him? Was she treefood too?

[Cirrina]

He was loud. Obnoxious even. But the fear was in his eyes so clearly it was hard not to smirk up at him. While most had shifting eyes, worried whispers, he wore his fear on his sleeve. So strong it was like blood spilled, made her long for her true form to see if she could scare him enough to drop dead. Then again, if he dropped dead who would the mer whispers her dark dreams to?

Specifically to unnerve the newcomer more, the human disguised mer let him stare as she stood so the red of her dress spilled out under her jacket. Said nothing as she reached with her own sounds to pluck at his, releasing the others feel only him and the music he played for her.

It was sour notes, loud, like screaming. Like fear. She flinched slightly at the sensation it gave her, rippling under her skin forcing her to release the frequency in favor of pulling her other, more eager Spark. And this was like feeling her way blindly through a kelp forest but truly she cared not for the things she felt in the tangle of the man. She only want to project some of her own ease into her, her smug confidence even. Anything that would still the strange rush of fear she had not only heard but now could feel coming off him like he would unravel with it.

So much fear for being with dull teeth. They feared the very same monsters they aways provoked. The thought was enough to distract her, breaking some of her attempted to plant her own seed of calm into the forest of fear that seemed to make him up. It was too much, she pulled back, unable to tell if it worked yet as she gestured to the seats.

“Sit with me.” It was not a request, “We will reassure you as we talk.”

Firmly she laid a hand on his arm to heal guide him to a seat before settling beside him, making sure to leave her hand on his arm. All the while Cirrina smiled, and though her eyes mirrored the smile it was not truly comforting. Her free hand began pulling out the rest of the bones, “We can see how fearful you are, let us find some way to deal with that.”

[Rakvald]

Rakvald felt his fear melt away, with every trill that turned onward. He focused his attention on the woman, wondering at first if she was taken by the creep. She didn’t appear to have any of the telltale signs of a creepborne. They weren’t too far from where the Creep arose to the west, nearer to Quacia, in terms of global proximity. He wondered how Desnind kept itself safe from such an influence. Or perhaps it was a weapon the natural city unleashed upon its decadent neighbor.

As he focused on the woman, she rose from her seat. Rakvald took in the full measure of her then. She had the air of an alpha female, one that commanded every inch of the space she occupied, and then some. She was certainly attractive, but more than that had a certain steady confidence that marked a strong candidate for breeding. Not that the Lothar was thinking of courting her, yet. It was just the Bonde way to take these details about females in, and tuck them in the back of their mind for further perusal as more details come to light.

Her touch was cold, but strangely comforting as she laid a hand against his arm, and led him to the table. Once there, he took a seat opposite her. The woman’s hand never left his arm alone, touching it the entire time. He looked from it to her. The Spark within him awoke with flesh curiosity. He tried to suppress it, but wasn’t easy with the subconscious thoughts of breeding running through his head. The combined stress of feeling in danger and being in the presence of a woman combined in a strange way, he found.

He tried to suppress them, however, and managed an introduction of himself, ”I Rakvald. Sorry, this your home? I would knock if had not tripped.”

He breathed a sigh of relief, as his fears continued to fade. ”Thank for taking my hand. Who is you?”

[Cirrina]

“No, just a hovel for people to rest.” Cirrinas kept her voice low pitched, trying to be soothing as she recalled someone doing the same when she was younger, “An empty home as I’m told there are many now, people disappearing, the dark everywhere. No one minds when we use free space.”

This one was much like any man, the mer supposed, finding comfort in the soft hand of another. She gave his hand a squeeze, which some may take as reassuring but for her it was a test of strength to see how he would respond. Gentle, as if she were delicate or firm? He certainly was large, he would feed her or Clay for a least a week. It was a pity she was too far from home or she would be tempted to drag his carcass back to her grotto. Still, a man this size could have all sorts of uses.

Her lips quirked at his stilted speech, always the large ones that had the least amount of grace. As if all their brains had melted into muscle, “Its rude of me not to introduce myself, I’m Cirrina, you may call me Cir. I find places to tell people what I see, to show them what I know and,” her voice grew coy, confident as she leaned towards him like she was sharing some great secret, “to keep warm in quiet company.”

Teasingly she drew back, removing her hand slowly to caress his so she could use both to show him the bones she scattered on the table. It was obvious they were bones, whether that would frighten him or not did not particularly bother the mer. He had already sat, she would not let him leave so easily.

Now that he seemed less flighty she allowed herself to poke at his notes again, this time the chords she struck were not so harsh but she looked for specific things now. Trying to decipher the sounds the notes rang back to her, not human for one and for another—

That note. She new that note, such a sweet tempting sound she blinked away the noise letting the ether fall back rapidly. Cirrina did not doubt what she heard, this man was an inhumane mage. Like did always call to like and it did explain the strange growth that the note had seemed to sing the loudest from.

“But now I will tell you why you are here.” Cirrina said, as if she hadn’t just stared at him like a wonderful piece of meat for several moments, “We,” she raised the bones in her hands to blow on them before offering them to do the same, “can find for you a way to deal with the fear in this city.”

[Rakvald]

”People gone? Hmmm…” Slowly Rakvald was coming to his senses, the fear subsiding, almost unnaturally fast. He squeezed her hand back when she took it, firmly. He needed to feel something he could latch onto, and the rancher was more comfortable with living beings than the cold wooden furniture that surrounded.

”I sorry, my common not good. Company?” Her word confused him slightly as he hadn’t learned that one yet, but the way she leaned forward stirred something in him, and he found himself grinning back at her.

His eyes trailed to her hand as she drew it back. Rakvald did the same thing with his own hand in turn, and watched as she scattered some bones on the table. They looked like knuckle bones. The fact that they might be from a humanoid creature intrigued him. The lady was either dangerous or had a fascination with the remains of sentients. In either case, that only deepened his intrigue.

The notes that rang back at Cirrina would be those of many men she dealt with. Simple needs like hunger, cold, shelter, confusion, and even lust. Lust was placed higher on his priorities than most perhaps, but he was a Lotharro.

There was another note, one of estrangement, and longing for something or someone left behind. But that was about all that was easily decipherable on the surface.

”Oh! You tell me?” He quirked a brow, ”I listen. Fearful city, plants dangerous where I from. Same here?”

He lifted his eyebrows in growing intrigue at this mysterious woman, who threw human bones and could possibly read the fabric of fate.

[Cirrina]

Sweet and dumb. Her favorite kind, her eyes crinkled in true mirth, “Companion, friend, not alone, take any definition. We will have to teach you more words, so you can impress all us ladies with.”

More notes sang to her, rushing over her like water. For a moment they drown her with their song, lust, confusion, longing all those were what caught her fancy. Lust she could use, confusion was always helpful when spinning her futures. The longing, everyone longed for things. Even her dispassionate mentor, though for what she couldn’t find, in either men it seemed. The mer would have to hone her skills farther but these notes she could spin as well as any other.

As Cir began to form her new toys fate she answered him absently, “Anything can be dangerous, even I,” her teeth bared playfully as she stroked a hand up his arm, squeezing the muscles gentler than she would normally, “and certainly even you. And this city is full of danger and fear.”

Falling away from the music she released her hold on his frequency just as she released the bones. They scattered on the table with soft tinkles. At times like these she carved the ability to read anything without life. What would her lovers lying fingers whisper to her but it wouldn’t matter because they would be lies and Cir was many things but a liar she was not. At least not often.

Even the words of her false prophecy were not fake, more guesses, suggestions, and she could always ‘help’ them avoid anything dire she hinted at. For a price anyway.

“There is darkness here, in this city,” she thought of his race, non human, his magic that sang to her, “darkness in you.”

All magic could be, Marin liked to preach the good it could do but the mer had yet to see it for anything other than what it was. A tool of manipulation. Whether on objects or people it did not matter. Even the good it could do was nothing but lies. But the mer kept these thoughts to herself, schooling her features into that of worry, widening her eyes as she looked at the large man, “You will find that danger while you search for things.”

With these final words she reached for the last bits of her ether, growing tired but wanting to push the gentlest and easily avoided thread of worry into the man. If he was worried perhaps he would seek comfort in her, and that was something she could use later. Tit for tat after all.

[Rakvald]

”Companion…” he said, his own mouth twisting into a grin at her smiling eyes. There was certainly something different about this woman, something about her flesh that called to his Spark. It was as if her true flesh was hidden, not as if by clothes but by light? He couldn’t quite make sense of the feeling he was getting from his magical senses. But then they didn’t exactly grant his clairvoyance. Just a slight curiosity when it came to matters of flesh and lineage.

”Danger.” his eyes darkened as his grin grew wider. ”Woman is most danger beast of all!” He thought back to Ildred, who’d forced him off his farm, while tricking him into impregnating her into the bargain. He would have his child back, by hook or crook, when she bore the brat.

”I’m from darkness. Come from dark place, I dwelt many decades, almost hundred arcs.” He shrugged, ”Raising pigs.”

Whether this woman was sourcing a magic that existed outside of sparks or divinity, he could tell she was very wise. Wiser than he, anyway. Not that it said much. He did enjoy her company.

”Danger everywhere. No safe place. Is life. Passion and adventure run amok in life.” He shrugged off the sense of worry that suddenly overcame him. Perhaps he was worried for his child, resting in the belly of that treacherous woman. Maybe he was worried there might be something wrong with him. Or, Thetros forbid, her.

”I…” He started, but failed to complete his thought. He didn’t know whether she even wanted to hear his troubles. In the end, he still spilled the beans. ”My son is held in another city. I must know how to reach him, and bring him here to safety. Before blood god corrupts him.”

He looked up at Cirrina, wanting to move next to her yet respecting her space for the moment. ”Can you tell I he is alright?”

[Cirrina]

She liked this one. He was simple but he was full of flattery and obviously capable of holding his own. A smirk curled her lips at his words, batting her eyes even though his eyes showed some semblance of seriousness. The Mer mage was sure if she listened to him now she'd find some interesting notes but his slight openness meant she didn't need them to continue this charade, "Oh? So you find me dangerous?"

Idly she dragged a nail up his arm, "I suppose we woman do have our claws."

And she even had teeth, though he didn't know that yet and when he did hopefully it would be because she was picking his flesh from them. A pig farmer was not what she expected the man to be though she supposed it suited him and pig meat was delicious, the land creatures reminded her of fat whales. Both amusing and edible, large and simple. Much like her current companion. The disguised Mer gave a slight roll of her shoulders but disagreed softly, if only to lull him into uneasy security.

"I'm sure some places are safe," her eyes lit up invitingly as she smiled, "my home is. Should you ever like choose to visit it, I would keep you safe...and warm."

Cir blinked for a moment, thrown off but his urgency and genuine want to know. So, he did think her some kind of wise woman, it was as she wanted but that was not the usual question she received, more often people asked for love and the greedy for money. Both things they were unlikely to get or keep in any instance if there were asking her for them. But she could see the hesitation in his posture and sought to drive home his faith in her. As gracefully as possible she moved from her seat to set herself in the large man laps. Almost like a child but her embrace was far from childish as she pressed herself to in a sort of comfort she could only mimic, refusing to remember when she had thought such embraces were real.

Only when she pulled away did Cir pick up several bones and toss them again, gentler than she had before, though she hardly spared their sayings more than a glance. She did not need runes she could not truly read to spin for this man his own fears and feed off them like a leech. Binding him hopefully ever closer when he would seek more answers.

"He is not." Her words were not gentle but firm, lacking delicacy as she stared hard into Rakvalds eyes, "But you know this, just as you know what you must--and will--do to retrieve him."

[Rakvald]

Ordinarily, having a buxom woman in his lap would’ve excited Rakvald, but thoughts of his future offspring being in jeopardy ruined his mood. As it was, he couldn’t think of much else than the detestable woman in whose womb he’d now reside. Many Lotharro had children by human women, that was not unusual. What was unusual, except perhaps among bonde Lothar, was the concern for the children of a union that meant nothing or less than nothing. Still, this would be Rakvald’s first child in this incarnation. He hadn’t been busy for all the years he’d been an adult, having occupied his time in the raising of his pigs. The thought of his former farm brought about a tinge of rage, as he remembered the woman who stole it all from him.

He turned to Cirrina, and couldn’t hide the distress from his face, let alone whatever tunes she’d be able to pluck out of the ether. He believed what she said. Most con artists would try to reassure their marks, and tell them only good things. At least the bad con artists. But she’d told him something negative, without even giving thought to how he might react. That made her trustworthy in his book.

”Thank.” He said simply, rubbing her back as she made a seat in his lap. He managed to grin as she wrapped an arm around his shoulder, and he put his hand on her thigh. Her flesh was cold, almost too cold. Yet that was not entirely unattractive. He found himself drawn to this mysterious fortune teller, his eyes roving from her face to her neck down to her cleavage. He grinned with his teeth, ”I have room in Karshe Inn. Will be finding a new steading in this city next few days, you welcome to visit always.”

He patted her thigh, and nodded to her. ”What I owe you for fortune?”