A Worthwhile Place

Log Info

• Title: A Worthwhile Place

• Emitter: Ravenstongue

• Characters: Dolan, Ravenstongue, Telamon

• Place: Ravenstongue and Telamon's house

• Summary: Dolan comes over to the Lupecyll-Atlon residence for some dinner and to talk things over with Ravenstongue and Telamon about what occurred at the Temple of Vardama. Ravenstongue frets over the food, but her mushroom pie (Grandfather's recipe) turns out fine. Dolan is surprised to hear Pothy's true speaking voice, but he, Telamon, and Ravenstongue all sit down for the meal. They discuss a number of things, and the evening ends with Dolan being commented upon favorably by Ravenstongue and Telamon's garden pixies.

-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=- Dramatis Personae =--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-                    
Dolan             5'10"    174 Lb     Human             Male      Brown-haired human with scars down his face.                               
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                      
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-

It's evening at the Lúpecyll-Atlon household, which can mean a variety of things, but there's actually an odd sense of calm today as Cor'lana pulls what appears to be some sort of pie dish out of the brick oven, giant mitts covering her hands. She blows the steam off the top as she sets it out on the table.

"Hopefully he likes it? I mean, people usually like Grandfather's recipes, but... Oh! Pothy, please go make sure that Mirabilis and Lily-of-the-Valley aren't going to ambush Dolan at the front door, please."

Pothy pulls his head out of a bowl of peanuts that's on the table in the living room. He throws his head back and sighs. "You want me to chase off the pixies? But they'll stop giving me those little honey candies if I scare them!" he complains in that cherubic little boy's voice.

"What have I told you about eating anything they give you, Pothy?" Cor'lana says with a huff as she takes her cooking apron off. "Anyway, shoo! He'll be here any moment!"

Pothy grumbles again, but he takes flight and leaves through the kitchen window to take roost at the front of the house. There's no pixies. Just Pothy--for all of the horrifying implications that has.

Meanwhile Telamon has been tidying up, with a little magical assistance. The floor's swept, the books are put away, and he's even put some fresh flowers in the table centerpiece. Running his hand through his hair, Tel walks over to touch Lana's arm soothingly.

"It'll be fine, dear. Dolan's a good man, but I don't think he's particularly finicky about food. I may be mistaken but he strikes me as the kind of fellow who just values a hot meal and some peace and quiet, because the world is rarely cooperative." He smiles. "In any case, everything's cleaned up and dusted, and I've put away our books. Anything else you need me to do?"

Dolan is really going to have to tell Andie about today's events, but that will have to wait, in another set of crossed schedules that seems to have become their norm. In the meantime, he's had plenty of time to think about the events of earlier in the day, even as he finishes his errands for the temple, and having cleaned up, he now wanders towards the university district. He no longer wears the white-and-gold mantle he'd worn earlier, but has made an effort to dress up for this in a more typical Alexandrian fashion, scrapping the weapons and armor at home in favor of an open-collared, unbleached shirt beneath a sartorial-style jacket, pale green with gold buttons up both sides of the breast. It is clearly purchased for the purpose of impressing someone, most likely Andelena, and is long-sleeved despite the heat, paired with pale green trousers and his usual boots.

He approaches the house, thumb hooked into his belt, with a pack over his back and only a crossbow at his hip, and stands a little back, looking at it curiously before approaching the gate.

"No, no, I think I'm okay," Cor'lana says to Telamon--as she takes a deep breath and lets it out. Totally relaxed, right? "I'm okay. It's okay. Dolan's a friend. Why am I so nervous?"

She looks at the table again. It's all set for dinner. The pie's gently cooling, the wine glasses are set, and she's left the choice of wine to the evening to Telamon, who has better judgment for it, anyway. "I think... We're all set."

She walks out and goes to the front door, opening it to look out at Dolan by the gate. "Hey! Come on in," she says with a smile. "The pie just came out of the oven. You have good timing!"

Pothy flies onto Cor'lana's shoulder... And he opens his beak... And he talks to Dolan. Talks words that are intelligible, in the voice of a young boy. "Hello! I hope you brought me snacks."

Cor'lana looks at Pothy. "Shush, you. We offer snacks to guests."

Pothy looks at Cor'lana for a long moment. "Okay, then consider me a guest, too." This gets him an eyeroll.

Telamon follows Cor'lana to the door. His sartorial choice for the evening is subdued, a black velvet tunic over hose, with good slippers -- not his absurd bear ones -- and his eyes twinkle gently. "Don't mind Pothy. He's incorrigible."

Letting Dolan come inside, he offers the man his hand to shake, before continuing, "I take it Andelena's on shift tonight? A pity, that, but feel free to share whatever we discuss here as needed. In any case, with the new wards, we shouldn't be disturbed... though I imagine the pixies will be watching at the window in fascination."

Dolan does a double-take at Pothy's little-boy voice, and almost forgets about the invite to come in. "You actually talk?" he blurts out, startled. "Besides the snacks, I mean - uh, hi Telamon, Lana. Thanks for having me over." He shakes Telamon's hand, but instead of a bottle of wine, he's holding a small brown wicker box in one hand, and he offers this to Ravenstongue. "So I was in the market after I finished my errands. I hope this is useful to you," he offers, more than a little shyly.

When Andelena is brought up, though, a grin abruptly breaks across the scarred face. "Yeah, she had the shift after mine. I got something for her, too."

"Yes, I can talk, but people don't understand it without magical help unless they're Lana," Pothy says. "The Mourner lady's warding allows everyone to understand each other, so you get to understand my true voice. I am Apotheosis, repository of knowledge to the Inheritor." His feathers puff up almost proudly as he explains all of this.

Cor'lana grins at the exchange between Pothy and Dolan. "It's a bit much at times, as you can imagine--but he's sweet when he wants to be. And sometimes he actually has interesting things to say--but mostly, it's all food stuff."

Her eyes wander down to the wicker box and her eyes widen in surprise. "Oh, Dolan, you're so nice! You didn't have to bring anything, really," she says, but she accepts the box anyway. "I'm sorry Andelena couldn't make it. Tel's told me a bit about her. She sounds like an amazing person."

Telamon leads Dolan and Cor'lana inside, the door shutting behind Dolan. "Yes, now it's not just him begging for food, we get to hear his opinion on everything." He chuckles, though, and reaches over to pet Pothy fondly. "Still, I've had worse roommates. Shall we go ahead with dinner? We have a good wine I picked up the other day, but there is tea and cider if you prefer."

Tel instinctively glances towards the window that faces out onto the garden. "And should the pixies come along, be polite, but under no circumstances accept anything to eat or drink from them. They... sometimes don't grasp that mortals might not appreciate their tastes in things."

"Repository of knowledge, huh? So you eat knowledge like you do snacks?" Dolan's in a good humor, it seems, following the others in. "I'll drink whatever you've got, Telamon. You wouldn't bring in pig swill." The smile fades at the mention of pixies, though. "They're fae. I probably shouldn't eat anything they offer in general, yeah?" Apparently he remembered something!

When Ravenstongue opens that box, now or later, she will find a set of six lidded jars containing dried herbs and spices inside, but Dolan makes no further fuss about it. "I'm looking forward to dinner. It smells wonderful," he adds, sniffing the air as he wanders in behind the others.

Cor'lana seems to struggle for a long moment about if she should open the box or not, looking at it for a long moment... And errs on the side of what seems safe. "I'll open this after dinner," she declares, although the compliment on her pie's smell has resulted in her smile widening. "Thank you. It's one of Grandfather's recipes--although I can promise you nothing is in the pie that'll rob you of your sense of taste, yes, like the pixies' gifts might. It's a sort of mushroom gravy pie."

"I still have my sense of taste, and I've eaten the pixies' candies a lot," Pothy says, holding his beak up high. "As Dolan says, I eat knowledge like I do snacks--and it wouldn't do for a repository of knowledge that's dedicated his existence to knowing everything to be unable to know the flavor of things."

Cor'lana just looks at Dolan with a bit of an amused look as she walks over to the dinner table and takes a seat. "That's a long-winded way of saying he's magic and doesn't seem to have a problem with it."

"It's important! I'm important! I've served your ancestors for generations!" Pothy whines. At least the young boy's voice sounds a little more appropriate now.

Telamon takes his seat as well, once Lana is seated, and begins pouring the wine deftly. "Lana is, in my opinion, a better cook than I -- I can handle some simple things, but the last time I tried to bake something it just... didn't bake right." He smiles lightly. "We all have our skills and weaknesses."

Once the food is served as well, and the meal is moving along, Tel smiles at Lana appreciatively before turning his gaze back to Dolan. "To go back to an earlier remark: generally, Ea-bound fey are going to be less ... dangerous, I guess is a good term, than ones in Quelynos. Domovoi or pixies may complicate your home life, but they're not going to drag you off for a hundred years or steal your name."

"Yeah, Andie's the better cook of us, but we aren't home together enough to cook most of the time. We get stuff from a tavern half the time." Dolan has been enjoying the meal and digs in with evident pleasure. "Good to know, but still. The one fey we ran across was plenty." A shudder ripples through him at that. "I take it Telamon told you what happened," he adds to Cor'lana, with the occasional glance at Pothy to make sure he wasn't planning on stealing their food.

Pothy... has been given a little plate of the mushroom pie. This is the price that must be paid for his silence and his good behavior, it seems, but he is actually behaving, to his credit.

Cor'lana shudders, too, when Dolan reminds her of the fey. "You two have no idea how lucky you are. No idea of how lucky you are. Grandfather may not care for the rest of his Seelie counterparts, but he'd sooner take up dancing lessons here in Alexandria than to ever say a kind word for the Unseelie--especially the King of the Sluagh."

Then she grimaces. "Actually, I shouldn't say that. He might decide dancing is his next new hobby after bookselling." She washes that thought down with a sip of wine. "Speaking of fey, however, that's why we were at the Temple today. Telamon told me what happened, and I thought I could reach out to Verna and talk to her, as it sounded to me like Verna became feytouched--which is what I am, albeit not through anything like what she went through."

"I believe my father would call it 'achievements in ignorance'. We didn't realize just how deep we'd dropped into the soup." Telamon sighs. "Honest to gods, afterward I felt like the biggest damned fool. I expected the girl, Phyrelia, to take shelter with the Seelie Court because they're ascendant right now, and would probably be more inclined to assist Eluna by proxy. I never thought she'd be with the King of the Wild Hunt."

He glares at his food, before shaking off the sour mood. "Enough. We made it out... though I still wonder what that woman did to Verna. We were going to talk to her about her new 'fey' nature, as Lana says." He grins at Dolan suddenly. "Which brings me to you, my friend. You walked in and it was like a teacher telling his students to settle down. How did you do that?"

"She probably took shelter with whoever found her first," Dolan points out, taking a bite of mushroom pie and savoring it fully while both of them talk. "Just glad she decided to come with us. We're going to have to move pretty damned fast, now, though. I don't like them wanting Verna to go wake something up that sleeps between worlds, because it could damn well be Her avatar."

He washes down the wine, and the hardness, the cheekiness, all of it, vanishes as if erased, to be replaced with a simple, awed gaze into nothing. "Part of it was me, but - Daeus stepped in," he murmurs, staring down at his plate. "I called on the totem I attuned. It's one of the chains that holds Caracoroth in the Abyss, and it's both dangerous and damned useful, if you have to use it. It's capable of draining the Nightmare's rage right out, but - it put me in touch with it." He's rambling a little, in the way he does when he is distracted, unwell, or thinking. "I felt it, but the Sunlord helped me withstand it. Push it aside. Shut it down. I felt His presence when I called on him."

Ravenstongue listens to Dolan's explanation and seems very impressed, nodding vigorously. While she hasn't eaten much of her own food, it seems almost thoroughly abandoned as her attention's entirely on the Redeemer.

"Say, Dolan--I know this is... only slightly related," she says, "but... Do you feel that often? That Daeus responded when you called on him?"

Her hand goes to that strange feather mark on her chest, exposed by the neckline of her cotton dress. "I've... Well, the last time I prayed to Navos in my time of need, He didn't answer. That was some time ago, and I've found myself feeling... Adrift." Her hand on the mark balls up into a fist.

Telamon's eyebrows rise up. "I know about the totem, of course, but I hadn't grasped that you could do that with it. It must be some sort of sympathetic resonance -- very interesting." He steeples his fingers for a moment. "I'm less surprised you've gotten the Knight's attention. You are one of his chosen; I expect he listens when you speak to him. Especially toting that statuette around."

He looks gently at Lana, reaching over to touch her free hand. He doesn't say anything on that score, just demonstrating support for her when she asks about matters of faith.

The mix of awe, humility, and sheer aw shucks coming from Dolan is palpable in every line of his shoulders, the set of his jaw, everything about him. "Yeah, I, uh, sort of found out about it by accident. I don't know, I mean, I know a few spells to call on His power, but His presence? I've never felt that before, and," he pauses, as of grasping helplessly for words, "I'm honored as shit that He actually answered. I, uh, hadn't ever really tried that before, but -" He's obviously flailing for words.

Cor'lana gives Dolan a smile, albeit one with a hint of sadness. "It couldn't have happened to a better person," she says. "I hope He keeps answering you, Dolan."

Pothy looks up from his empty plate. He has decided... The bribe must be renewed. "Lana, are you going to eat the rest of that?"

"Hmm?" Cor'lana looks down at her slice of the pie. There's a couple of bites that have been taken out of it, but there's still plenty left to eat. "Oh, you can have the rest of it, Pothy," she says, and she pushes it over to Pothy's side of the dinner table.

Pothy's tail wags happily up and down, much like a dog's might. "Don't mind if I do!" he says happily before he tucks in.

She looks at Dolan and smiles. "Don't mind me. I've always eaten lightly--side effect of being feytouched."

GAME: Dolan rolls perception: (17)+10: 27
GAME: Dolan rolls sense motive+1: (13)+13+1: 27

Meanwhile, Tel's demolished his serving, and is sipping his wine. "I'm singularly unqualified to give advice on this issue, because I've... never really had that kind of personal connection to one god. Oh, I'm not an atheist or some other ridiculous heresy, I just don't feel strongly bound to any one of the Gods of Light or Twilight. So I just venerate them all."

He smirks at Lana's fairly modest eating. "Lucky girl. She gets to eat -- or not -- at her whim. I'm still bound to fuel the forges." Something glints in his dark eyes. "Though there have been... other benefits." He flicks his gaze to Lana, considers, then continues, "I had a dream visit from the Watcher. He needed to tell me a few things."

It's not Cor'lana's words that get Dolan's attention, but her actions. She pushes the food aside, and he immediately straightens up and sets down his fork. "Damn it all, I'm an ass. I'm sorry, Cor'lana. I didn't realize that your relationship with the gods wasn't so great." Genuine contrition there, and he immediately changes the subject. "I wouldn't have said that if I'd realized. You said you'd learned something, Telamon?"

Cor'lana gives another one of those sad smiles. "No, it's okay. I've managed to find my comfort in other things. And... I really don't actually need to eat."

She looks at Dolan and taps the mark on her chest. "This is my family's curuchuil--it's an elven form of magic art that's passed down, but my paternal family is... a bit odd. You know, on account of being descended from a reclusive fey noble and all. The eldest child of the eldest child bears a mark of a feather on their chest instead of making a painting or adding onto a sculpture like other elven families. Mine is sort of a connection between myself and Grandfather--and some of his influence has rubbed off on me. Such as not needing to eat."

Cor'lana looks to Telamon and nods. "Right--you should probably explain the Watcher first, though. Gosh, Dolan, you're going to think we're both... I don't know, incredibly weird and bizarre individuals after this."

Pothy just looks at Cor'lana. "Lana, don't worry. Everyone knows you're weird," he says in a deadpan voice.

Telamon snorts. "We're adventurers. Aren't we weird by default?" He steeples his fingers again, his brow furrowing. "In any case, the Watcher was only telling me some things about my talent. Some new things that I might not have known about, or realized, but he wanted me to be aware of. Useful to me personally, but it's not something applicable to our current woes."

He half smiles. "I'm skipping ahead here. The Watcher is... a mentor. He started trying to contact me in dreams when I first developed sorcerous abilities, but only relatively recently was I able to communicate with him. He's some sort of strange creature that dwells in space, called a flumph." He spreads his hands. "The Watcher wanted to tell me about certain spells I now had the capacity to use, as well as the ability to drawn on 'the lights of the Far North' as well as...um... not needing to breathe any more."

"Oh." Dolan blinks, but just looks between them. There's a very definite none of my business here, he decides, so instead of inquiring further, he takes a different tack. "You can be weird all you want, you are both good people, and you're not going to be my friends any the less so long as you stay that way. Not as if I don't have my own weirdnesses." He doesn't elaborate, aside from touching a finger to the scarred temple closest to his artificial eye. "Sounds like your power is coming from interesting places, both of you," he ventures. "I'm glad we had Telamon along on that trip, he was able to set us right."

Cor'lana grins a little. "Well, there's plenty of weirdness with the two of us, so you still have plenty of opportunity to run if things get too odd. I'm just glad Telamon was able to help."

Speaking of weirdness... There's a couple of voices that come from the open kitchen window. In fact, it looks like there are two... butterflies? sitting at the kitchen windowsill.

No, in fact, those are tiny, tiny women, wearing dresses that are made from flower petals that match the color of their butterfly wings. One of them is dark-skinned with a cascade of braided plant-green hair, and the other is fair-skinned with ringlets of blonde hair--but both have dark eyes that seem almost like insects.

"Ooh, who's the tall drink of water?" the blonde asks, peering intently at Dolan. "I like both of his sides. So interesting! Bad boys are such a treat."

The verdette looks at her fellow pixie with an expression on her face that measures out to exasperation. "Lily-of-the-Valley, how do you know he's a 'bad boy'? I swear, all of those Theatre District shows we keep sneaking out to go see have rotted out what's left of your brain. ...He is good-looking, though."

"Have not, Mirabilis!" the blonde, Lily-of-the-Valley, replies, tiny fists flailing. "You just know how it is! The bad boys are always the ones that look dangerous, but deep down inside, they have a heart of gold! Not to mention the size of their--"

Cor'lana facepalms. "I'm so sorry," she grumbles to Dolan. "Those are our garden pixies, Mirabilis and Lily-of-the-Valley. They're... let's just say their primary hobby is, ahem, 'dudewatching', when they're not working on our garden. Which, everyone's got a hobby, but... maybe not with our friends and dinner guests, please."

It's Cor'lana's turn to rub her temples. "Tel, can you run them off for us?"

Telamon chuckles. "I'll go see if I can distract them for a bit." He rises, and makes a point to kiss Lana on the cheek. "Dinner was wonderful, by the way. Thank you." He gives Dolan a grin. "If you're gone before I get back, take care, safe travels, and let me know when we decide to go kick in some more doors. I'm happy to help."

With that, he walks over to the back door, opening it and slipping outside. "Alright, ladies, let's not ogle the gentleman, he's spoken for. Shall we see how many fireflies follow me around this time?..."

Dolan's eyebrows arch at the abrupt appearance of the pixies and their salacious chatter. "Brightest of days, Telamon," he offers in farewell, but a wicked glint appears in his flesh-and-blood eye, and he appears to squelch whatever it was he was planning to say. He turns back to Lana instead, having polished off his meal and taken to nursing a glass of wine. "I agree, dinner was wonderful. I probably ought to be back when Andie gets home, though."

"Taken! Awwwww!" Lily-of-the-Valley huffs. "How come all the boys that you bring into the back yard are taken or snapped up sooner than I get to even talk to them!"

"Lily, not once, not ever will you get a tall mortal boy to express interest in you. It's just physically not possible. We've had this talk," Mirabilis says.

The pixies chatter more about it as they follow Telamon outside, intrigued by the prospects of fireflies. Cor'lana, meanwhile, just looks infinitely grateful that Dolan's taking it in stride. "Of course," she says, and she gestures to the remainder of the pie. "Please, feel free to bring back some to her. I'll send you off with one of my plates. Don't feel like you have to bring it back, either--I swear Grandfather just makes more appear whenever we need them."

She walks Dolan to the door once a plate is made for Andelena (or not, but Andelena would probably be pretty miffed to miss out on good food that didn't come from a greasy tavern for once). "Be safe and all, right? And... Please, come back over any time, whenever, wherever. I'm usually just here writing poetry."

"And bring me snacks next time!" Pothy calls from the dinner table. He's cleaning up the remains.

Dolan knows better than to not make a plate for Andelena, since Cor'lana is offering. A healthy plate. "Yeah, you too. I'll sure try. Thanks for dinner, it was fantastic, and I'm sure you get why I didn't want to explain in front of just anybody."

Cor'lana grins from ear-to-ear. "Dolan, you just walked into the home of a feytouched woman, her seemingly-immortal raven friend, her fiance who's mentored by space creatures, and two garden pixies. You didn't even get to meet Grandfather. Trust me, I know what it's like to not want to explain in front of everyone and anyone."

She gives Dolan a little friendly hug, if he lets her. "Have a good night."

The door to the Lúpecyll-Atlon home is shut, but the excited chattering of garden pixies can still be heard from the backyard, as well as Pothy begging for snacks. Life here is never usual, but it's a worthwhile place to be--even if only for a little while.