Nine Years of Debt

Log Info

• Title:
• Emitter: Cryosanthia
• Characters: Cryosanthia, Tenoc, Halani, Jinks
• Place: W02: Mictlan: Nesting Grounds
• Time: Friday, October 07, 2022, 9:26 PM
• Summary: The Nest-Mothers are putting their nestlings to bed. Cryosanthia is struggling, as she has many energetic ones. Halani is watching with amusement, while Tenoc and Lily assist. Jinks arrives, listless and down. Cryo introduces her slumbering Ravenlord guest but there is no interest. There are heavier things on the gnome's mind. Cryo digs, but doesn't get far, especially with the distraction of her offspring. The bucolic events are too painful for the gnome and he departs, with Cryo wishing that he return soon.

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Located within the Deep Woods, and hours past Wilderness Pointe, in the heart of its northern woods, bones frame this hollowed-out space. Massive and heavy, they reach towards the sky, meeting--almost--in the center like great and worn stalagmites. Or giant teeth. After a few seconds--it's quickly evident that this is a space carved from a dragon's bones. A very, very large...dragon's bones. The air smells of ash, brimstone, and earth. Underneath the apex of the bones lie the workings of a central Fire.

The grounds are run by shamans of the sith-makar, and the sacred space dedicated to the Death Singing Dragon, one of their names for the goddess, Vardama. There are always a number of them about, from a mixture of tribes. Formally, the sith use it to sing the souls of their dead back to the land of Wing and Flame, and celebrate the Memory of Blood. It was here that brave heroes stood, and vanquished the ashen warriors of old, thereby freeing the land from Thul's curse. Informally, it is a gathering place.

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-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=  Appearing  -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Cryosanthia  6'9"     291 Lb     Sith-Makar        Female    A dashingly tall, elegant white-scaled lizard woman.
Tenoc        7'0"     280 Lb     Sith-Makar        Male      Tall, green-scaled Sith'Makar hunter.
Halani       5'4"     120 Lb     Human/Xian        Female    Shortish, dusky skinned woman with almond shaped eyes.
Jinks        3'4"     39 Lb      Gnome             Male      A gnomish fellow in fancy garb and jewelry.
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Mictlan: The Nesting Grounds

It's late afternoon, the sky turning to dark blue with no signs the stars will come out. A chill wind blows - around Mictlan - ; inside the hallowed grounds the air is warm and still, the druids' spells maintaining the equilibrium. At the centre lies the palisade that protects the nesting grounds, within that the ziggurat that houses all the nests.

Cryo is putting her nestling to bed. By her count, she has put thirty-five to bed. She only has six, one of whom is asleep, but the others keep escaping.

"Lily! Go left, I'll go right." She sighs and she leaps.

The wild, zany, manic, wonderful, terrible frustrations of parenthood. Chief among them, the precocious and ferocious and utterly energetic hatchlings that surely could lend their excited energy to small stars in the event of a late dawn!

One hatchling awaits their moment with impossible patience; wait, watch for opening, spring and scamper and raceraceracefordoorway--!

Sudden shadow, loom and chuff and LOOM. And catch escaping hatchling with a quick grab.

"Ssssk! No more running," Tenoc says with every attempt at sternness. An effect somewhat ruined by lively, quiet tailthump behind. Holding the green-scaled hatchling by the scruff of neck, he gathers them more fully (and firmly) into arms, amusement alloyed with stern glance. "The Sun fades away, and you must be at rest. There are many things in deep-dark that might bite." Right, left, and now center-- Bedtime assured!

Mostly assured. Reinforced, at least!

"It's an interesting way to keep training if nothing else. Tethered to the nest as you are," observes Jinks as he sloughs off his makari disguise and glitters from a safe observation distance. Whether the bard managed to sneak his way in or was identified as familiar and allowed to pass... it's an item for debate.

The black-eyed gnome's hair is down, hanging unusually long at just past his shoulders. His suit is of a snug and formal cut, patterned with frolicking foxes when the light catches the subtle designs just right. As usual, a lesser creature would be crushed under the wait of his jewelry but he wears it with ease.

Hands in pockets and looking somewhere between bored and tired, he has a transient air about him tonight.

Cryo's emerald green hatchling, the one that most matches Tenoc's scales, appropriately wriggles in his grasp, little legs bicycling in the air. Lily has lunged and managed to catch a small redscale - one of Xochi's, while Cryo waves her hand, her glove glowing white, causing a whitescale to hover off the ground.

"Thank the Silver Empress for Mage Hand." She hisses, as the nestling floats her way. It's followed by an enthusiastic "Jinks! Yes! It is a challenge! This one is glad to see you again. You are glittery."

Zama pops her head out of her 'book fort' to examine the Gnome. "Peace."

"Tenoc! Over there!" Cryo points.

Shifting the squirming hatchling carefully to one arm, Tenoc moves with a hunter's quick steps to corral a second hatchling, edging between the tiny shape and the path to the Wide Wide World! Bright eyes widening at the sudden closing of escape, the shimmery greenscaled hatchling does their level best to puff and flutter and be Scary! The Wide World! It is there. It awaits!

Tenoc chuffs with a rumble of bemusement, curling over as he stalks forward-- arm, snap forward and SNATCH!

"Bedtime is good training for many things, yus," Tenoc agrees, a rumble cheerful as he gather the frustrated hatclings into his arms. He dips his head towards the other Mothers-- head then on a swivel, to catch glance of any other sneaky would-be escapers from the Fortress of Luxury! "Peace upon your nests--" He pauses, struggling to reaffirm his grip as the two hatchlings unleash their dreadful counter-- coordinated squirming. "--ssk. Soon!"

"For better or worse," Jinks agrees with Zama, lips curling up briefly in a smile.

The gnome offers Cryosanthia a quick nod and an "always" as he takes a few steps closer in the wake of successful makari parenting. His eyes roam over the nest before he turns to glance over his shoulder.

Gnimble fingers unbutton his coat and he leans his shoulder into a wall in the great oruch tradition. The bard seems content to cross his arms and observe at this juncture.

"Yes. Peace. Peace now! Peace on my Nest." Cryo insists, tucking her gleaming whitescale in, then taking the emerald one from Tenoc. She strokes along their backs, nose to tailtip, encouraging them to curl up. "Sleep, please babies, peace. Lily...?"

"Hass Xochi's." The carnation kobold says, delivering a predominantly red-scale to the former Egg-watcher.

Xochi hisses, taking the nestling. She's already holding her two hissy offspring down with her hands, the third one is tucked under a length of tail. "They will ssleep."

Itzpapalotl, the bronze scale, grins as she watches the other two. "You should have ussed a bassket lid." Her nest is covered by one, and whether her nestlings wish to sleep or not, escape is prevented.

"This one values tradition!" Cryo huffs. She also values frustration and sleeplessness it would seem. The gnome is grabbed, as gently as a nestling, given a hug and set down beside her nest. "This one will be with you soon, as soon as... as soon as..."

Her head keeps roaming.

Tenoc adds his eyes to the mix, sweeping glance searching for clever, eager, sneaky--

He says nothing for the basket lid, silent bemusement radiating as he goes about his gathering work. The banter of the Mothers carries on over his head-- though a moment of comforting is stolen, a brush along Cryo's arm in sympathy. "All shall be calm soon," he promises, both to the gnome and to frazzled Cryo. He thumps his tail carefully, off to being his patrol again, eyes searching with care. "But-- good things. The Greenspeaker tells of good things, for flowers and fruits to come. And the colony grows." He rumbles in warm satisfaction, sighing at the last. "Though the honey gathering is still... sssk. Small amounts. More time must pass."

Halani laughs, and claps. She hasn't helped catch the hatchlings, perhaps for fear of hurting them, but she takes great delight in watching the elder sith chase after the young ones. Cross-legged, she sits atop a large rock with an excellent view... which grants her sight of Jinks when he sheds his disguise and leans all casual like. "Think you missed one over there, yeah?" she calls out, pointing.

Jinks flinches mildly but doesn't resist (or return) the embrace. His pockets jangle and purses jingle as he's settled back down to the ground and gives a shallow shrug in response.

"I have spells," but he isn't sure of their appropriateness if his tone is any indication. He glances at Halani and gives a nod. Another fleeting, thin smile.

A deep exhale, a sigh, the touch from her mate gives Cryo a sense of relief. "Thank you." She nuzzles Tenoc, rubbing cheek to cheek. "This one looks forward to the honey."

"There!" She reaches, a glowing glove lifting a glacial blue hatchling, pulling him her way. As the little glacial-scale floats her way she grins at the gnome, her nose dipped but her teeth still visible, "Mage Hand helps, or telekenisis. Or, or!"

Her grin widens, she gestures at a new, unexpected nest which contains an actual bird. A human-sized, curled up egalrin, "or perhaps you have something that might awaken our Ravenlord guest. He's improving, but still weak."

Tenoc rumbles in quiet contentment, sparing a brief, careful glance at the newest nest, its fragile-looking occupant. Dubious, but.... He chuffs, shaking his head. In the safest place in all Mictlan, and watched, cared for by the Mothers and Watchers besides-- Tenoc gives the resting Egalrin a long, studied glance before his eyes turn elsewhere in their careful search. Absently heading for the place Halani pointed out.

Absently!

"One is still uncertain," he begins, moving carefully towards the shadowy, Suspicious Corner. So suspicious. "Do Skykun eat the same things we do? Fruit-things? Meat-thingss? Beetles? ...small rocks? The Gathers and Hunters work as always and before, but we have no word on special.... ssk. Requirements."

"Ehhh... ate with them last year, yeah? Seemed like pretty normal stuff. Probably don't have to worry," Halani offers Tenoc with a non-committal shrug, her eyes remaining on the hiding place. That's right. Diversion conversation. Make them think they've been overlooked. She feins a yawn, then stretches her arms up and behind her head and neck, doing her best spine-poppoing impression. "Did you try slapping him in the face? That usually wakes me up, yeah?"

"None of those," admits the bard with another shrug. "Webs. Illusions. Illusions of webs." He crosses his arms and leans back again. "Can makari develop a fear of spiders..?" He looks up and to one side, scanning through half-remembered myths, songs, and histories.

"Maybe not the webs so young."

A glance is afforded towards the egalrin and he simply shakes his head. "I'd rather not." He frowns and adds, "No time for Ravenlords, Veils, ambassadors, or ressurectionists."

"They do, yes, the same things. Fruit, meat, fish, small rocks. " Cryo says, "Slapping, no, but this one has been pouring soup in his beak. He is getting stronger."

Soup with eyes.

Without warning, the whitescale leaps, long and elegant as she arcs through the air to land with barely a noise and snatch a silvery-white-scale from a bush. "Ha! Ssassa has you!" Both hands close on the squirming little-ling.

Coza peers out of her book-fort, unconcerned. Her younglings have been weighed down by books or nested in small cubes -made out of books-. Tradition be damned; she has reading to do.

"Faran brings Torrent... nearby." Cryo says, "if anything will develop a fear of spiders, he would." Something in the gnome's tone catches the whitescale's ear-frills, she turns to focus on him. Her eyes are like cold sapphire gems, "What's eating up all your time? You look successful. You glitter more than Metztli."

"Who is vibrantly glittery," Tenoc adds, grinning as the capture is successful. Diversion! He grins with toothy pleasure, a faint tendril of steam fleeting from his nostrils as he moves carefully back into position nearby. Count nestlings? One, two, three, handfuls, bunches, more... Rumbling, the Greenscaled Hunter shakes his head. Best stop flailing at numbers. He glances at the Matrons, an eye out for any other wayward skitterlings as he takes place near Cryo's nest....

..surreptitious, careful as he passes Lily a small collection of things in the leather pouch he removes from his hip. Cleaned bones, polished wood, gleaming metal bits, semi-carved beads, fishing cord. A nod of approval, gratefulness for helpful Little Big Sister in stressful times!

Halani's teeth shine with her grin when the hatchling is captured; the grin is short lived, however, as she seems to clue into Cryosanthia's concern for Jinks. Her gaze crosses the compound to rest upon the black-eyed gnome, amusement replaced by.. scrutiny. Intense scrutiny. Though her words, when they come, don't seem intended to pry any answers out of him. "Ah.. you know Jinks, yeah? Always got a hand in one oven and the other catching stories, yeah? No time for other things. Important things." A pause. "Like training."

"I am." Successful. Jinks uncrosses one arm just enough to brush at the lapel of his coat and then adjust a ring with the thumb of the same hand. He looks between Cryosanthia and Tenoc as the bat the topic of Metztli back and forth before nodding his acceptance.

He's weighing his options when Halani chimes in, canting his head back her direction without looking that way. "Something like that," he agrees.

Lily takes the bundle, dropping the wintermint scaled nestling she had received. Baby sith'makar bounce. Not really, but they are light and spring up almost immediately when their feet touch the ground. The nestling lands on the kobold's arm and is over her shoulder as she peers into the touch.

So full of treasures! She grins back at the green-scaled male, "thankssss."

"Lily! That one escapes, Lily. Little one, hold on!" Cryo lunges, hand outstretched, glove glowing once more as a darting youngling runs up into the air. With beckoning gestures she floats her offspring over as she approaches her nest and crouches, tucking the two in. Holding them in.

A firm exhale, Cryosanthia looks at Halani, back at Jinks, "Anything you wish to discuss?"

Her stance is casual, close to tenoc, enough her thigh brushes against his as she leans, and her tail is curled in contact. She remains low, tracing the scales on her nestlings' backs, encouraging sleep.

Tenoc settles alongside Cryo, quiet watch gazing down at gathered, grumbly, delighted, wistful...

There are no words. Never enough words, in any language. Tail brushing hers, the male settles alongside, watching carefully, occasion in his movements to help resettle finally calming hatchlings to the nest. Quiet, as his mate tends to things of a different sort. Hatchlings comforted, eldest daughter rewarded-- now time to murmur and rumble and idle brief words, whisperings. Some low-spoken tale of Am'shere-- storytelling, to hint and tease hatchlings to sleep!

The gnome watches Cryosanthia and Tenoc, an almost clinical observer unabashed in his idle scrutiny. He blinks, interrupted, and turns to espy Halani as she makes her excuses and departs tumbling and joking.

"Things are the way things are," Jinks finally sighs. Cryosanthia gets a conciliatory smile for her inquiry. "I just needed a break, so..." he scans his eyes around the general area. 'Here I am' the gesture seems to say.

"You are welcome, your presence is enjoyed." Cryosanthia says. In response, at the redscale's nest there is a shifting in her stance, a glance at the gnome, more of a glare but Xochi remains silent. Zama and Papal watch as well. Only Cryo is distracted, counting her nest, glancing back and forth to coax the younglings to sleep and stare at the gnome.

Lily is on guard, holding one down with a foot while she looks through her treasure bag. She's relaxed; Cryosanthia, less so. As the one closest, Tenoc can sense her tension, slowly ebbing with his presence and the onset of sleep, though all sith'makar present would be aware of the whitescale's anxious scents.

"This one suspects you have more to your story. Is there something to tell?" She asks, "No change, no reconciliation with your children? Do you have news about how they are?"

Tenoc sketches a glance, tail moving in idle curves. Support by presence, by gentle grace-- support by being... and convincing whispers, murmurs. More chant than story, to lure hatchlings, softer sounds, breaths...

Watching carefully, leaving speaking to Cryo. That is best way!

He slips into sleep and bliss.

"No." Jinks answers, an edge in his voice. He takes a moment to rub his face before replacing his mask of passivity. "They're gone, Cryosanthia. For good. They never were mine."

The gnome relates the information as fact, smothering whatever feelings he might have on the matter before the words leave his lips. The affair, timelost children, estrangement, and Geas just entries on a ledger, fantastic as they may be.

Jinks considers his boots, setting his heel and lifting his toes for a moment before sighing again.

"I took a position at the bardic college. I married. I do these things that people do. I owe nine-years more to the Harpist and then I'll be Done and not need do them anymore.

"Occasionally, I retrace my steps looking for the things I misplaced along the way."

She listens. Her breath slowly drains out. Her body touches her mate's and she feels his solid presence as hers steals his warmth. Cryosanthia stares at Jinks, in one of her silent moments. Her hands coming together.

"This one has no words for that." Her fingers scrape against each other, in her stillness her scales, her draconic features seem emphasized. She is cold; she is not unfeeling.

"This one cannot say, time will heal, things may change. Some things are forever." Her fingers scrape more against each other. "You were there for me when I needed it. I wish to be there for you."

Another inhale, exhale, "How can I help?"

"You can't." Jinks admits with another shallow shrug. "No one can." He leans away from the wall and dusts his coat shoulder, does up the buttons. "Breaking oaths just makes things worse-- and this is a better use of your time."

A pocket mirror is brought from thin air and he takes a moment to fix his hair before sliding it down into a pocket. He straightens his cufflinks and jabot.

"It's hollow and meaningless but it's not Hell," Jinks assures the whitescale. "When I feel up to paying the price, I escape and try to find a song worth carrying... but I don't have time for Ravenlords--" another glance is spared at the egalrin-- "or Veilless elves, ambassadors, or Resurrectionists.

"It'll all keep nine-years and then it won't matter."

"I'll manage those, don't worry about them." Cryo waves dismissively at her feathered guest, a gesture that includes the outer world. She leans forward, until she has dropped onto her hands. All fours is not an impossible mode for her, but a rare one, and reminding of a time when she was fully a dragon. Her neck curls toward Jinks, bearing her head closer, with all it's ridges, scales and horns, and eyes that gleam like the depths of pure snow.

"You are a part of my world, Jinks, the one that I'll fight for. My family, found and made, my people. I want more than nine years of you; I don't understand what you mean by it."

Her head tilts, "Are those the years you traded getting Aya back? Your natural lifespan? You made an Oath for Nine years? I think? This one has too much of a new mother's mind, the attention span of a nestling. You will need to connect the dots."

She's cold, a force of nature, looming like an iceberg. Her breath coaxes the water from the air.

"A decade offering devotions to the Harpist for a piece of Aya's soul." Jinks explains with a nod. "Closer to nine-years now than ten."

He smiles again, a sad and faint thing that's all apology. "Your world should be a happy thing, Cryosanthia. With things worth fighting for."

The gnome takes a step back and half-turns, looking back across the nestmother's area at the inside of the palisades. "We get what we deserve. You have your nest and I have my castle. Coyote laughs." One last shrug and then he turns the rest of the way and starts walking back home.

She watches him leave. She sits up, she sits back, her weight resting on her tail as her head follows. Her mate is there, a presence, holding up her world; her daughter, another pillar, now climbing her like her nestlings do, to watch the gnome leave.

In her mind, the icebergs growl, grinding in the frozen sea. Her tower, stark and tall. The permafrost is melting, pale flowers emerging from the patches bare of snow. Few and far between. Like her thoughts; like the words that might heal, if only she were wise enough to think them.

"Aya made it possible, showed me its worth. You rescued her when I could not. You paid, you deserve the reward." Cryosanthia calls, "I have a debt and happiness to share. Do not be a stranger. There is punishment enough without adding to your own."

OOC

Inspirational Image
https://thumbs.gfycat.com/CalculatingUltimateAustralianfreshwatercrocodile-max-1mb.gif

<OOC> Cryosanthia says, "Cryo's nestlings' colours are: white and pale green scaled, wintermint colours, silvery-white scale, a glacial blue scale, a green and black, one coloured a brilliant green, the other strikingly white."