That Lifting Feeling
Log Info
- Title: That Lifting Feeling
- Emitter: Aryia
- Characters: Aryia, Aya
- Place: Memorial Gardens
- Time: May 25th, 2022
- Summary: In the memorial gardens, Aryia is taking a moment to reflect. She's soon joined by Aya, and they both go over a recent sensation they've both felt. Questioning reveals some others close to them feel it too, but not everyone. They speak of Daed's family being seemingly desperate about Charn on the brink of collapse (and some choice gestures on Aryia's part) before they head off into the night on a peaceful stroll.
- Memorial Gardens District, Dusk
The deep blue and purples of the night sky give way to the pinpricks of light that dot it, not a cloud in sight to mar the sight. Eluna hangs high overhead, bathing all in a faint, pale light. Giving the gardens a tinge of a pearlescent undershade to those that thrive in the pitch black.
One such figure was that of a scarred mul'neissa woman, her glowing gaze fixated on the celestial moon above. Though a closer look reveals she's merely just spacing out on a bench. Yet, at the same time, deep in thought.
However long she's been there, the stilled moment breaks, and she breaths out heavily through her nose, fingers dragging through her curled hair.
"The curls are a pleasant change, sister," comes comment from behind the mul'niessa. "Are you enjoying the moonlight, the flowers, or both?" Aya may not be able to appear without notice in a literal sense within the city, but that does not mean she cannot make a more mundane yet unobtrusive entrance. That Aryia's attention was elsewhere certainly did not inhibit, either.
It was one of the rare times after getting used to her sister's random appearance that Aryia actually flinches from the sudden voice. She didn't need to turn, but she just softly sighs and shrugs.
"All of the above. End up in random places when needing to think," she gestures in front of herself before turning on the bench to look over. A light smile tugs are her lips. "Thanks. I tried to make it green earlier but that turned out fucking terrible. The curls will go away eventually." <Handspeech>
A brow is arched. "If you had kept the green, I might not have noticed you here..." A corner of Aya's mouth lifts with that, though with a warmth to the wry. She then steps around to the side of the bench, both to limit Aryia needing to contort and to settle on the edge of it. "I find this place ... soothing and come here for the same more often than not." Not so random, even if some part is nagging that predictability is dangerous. "What brought you here this night?"
Aryia rolls her eyes as her lips sputter a 'pfft'. She scoots over, making room on the bench. "It is a calm place. Yes. Though before the wards went up, I'd get on roofs and stuff. The wind was nice."
The question is left in the air for a moment, the mute sister seemingly trying to piece that answer together. "I... it feels like... you know when..." her hands waffle between thoughts aimlessly before finally settling on one. "Ever since... maybe.. a week ago? Every day since then has felt like I've woken up on the right side of the bed. Normally that's not a good thing. But I just.. /can't/ place why."
Their line of work requires their emotions and wills to be in constant check and balance. For most its letting go of the bad to achieve balance. But the same must be applied to the good. "It's just really weird." <Handspeech>
"Do you usually sleep on the left and she the right?" Aya inquires with lifted hands. "I can imagine that any side would still be the best." The wry, and the pleasance, grow and peak before the former is reigned in. "Times have seemed more..." now she makes a vague gesture "...content? as of late. It could be from waking up in the most comfortable spot, or with the most comfortable company..." she admits with a half shrug.
Aryia snorts. "Usually it's 'whatever side I can pull myself out of it," she answers with a smirk before she gives a little sigh. Then a slow nod. "Yes. Though those circumstances have been rather... typical as of late for me. This feels like... I don't know. I can't place it."
She looks up to the moon. The hue is washed over her, matching the luminosity of the glow in her eyes. "... when I work on my daily preparations. I take some time to meditate. Those times have been so simple and straightforward as of late. I thought maybe I was just getting better at it but... I don't know. Feels like I confessed something and faced no repercussions." She ponders that signage for a moment, then bobs her head once, agreeing with it. <Handspeech>
Any sororital ribbing now aside, Aya notes the signs and their contents before following Aryia's gaze to Eluna's light. The comparison used sparks further thought, as it is not wholly metaphorical in her own case. "Or that whatever repurcussions may come are accepted," she offers aloud rather than break the current view or sign sidelong. "I had not thought much of it, and assumed it was merely my own... situation. I didn't think that it was not only me."
Aryia dips her chin once in concurrence, her taking a glance to Aya to see if there was any additional gestures. But she ends up executing a double take as she runs that back through her head. "Wait. How do you mean?" she gestures, fully focused on her sister now. "Not only you?"
Aya glances back to Aryia at the gestures and subsequently pauses and corrects. "Not only us, I meant. Daechir and I have seemed more... comfortable than... ever. I assumed he had finally relaxed from ... all that has happened." She does not itemize the list, as Aryia is familar with all or the vast majority. She exhales a breath. "And that this allowed me to do the same. Now you speak of something similar."
Aryia searches Aya's face for a moment overlong before dropping her chin into the crook of her thumb and forefinger. She doesn't speak (rather, sign) here, her instead taking that bit of information and sitting back in the bench properly.
"Violet's disposition hasn't changed at all in any subtle manner like that," she throws out there after a solid minute of just thinking. Pondering. "Is it... just mul'neissa? I haven't talked to my parents in a little bit..." <Hadnspeech>
Aya's lips purse; perhaps in thought, perhaps in consternation. "I don't know. I have not spoken to many, not so recently and not of this. Daechir's father and grandmother were in the city." The purse becomes a frown. "They may still be, but I have no intention of speaking to them again if it can be avoided."
Aryia chews her lip. "I guess if you run into any other mul'neissa, /aside/ from those two, see if they have something similar. This is... too strange."
She chuckles, shaking her head. "I hope, for your sake, you don't have to speak with them. I don't even /know/ anything about them, and I already don't like them based on the look on your face." <Handspeech>
Aya exhales a breath and shakes her head. "They are Charneth nobles, and what one would expect of them. They want to increase their wealth, power, and holdings. In this case, anything they can obtain outside of Charn. The nation is in the midst of civil war, and the old is being burnt down for the new. They expected Daed to hand over his mother's home -his home-OUR home- to them." A pause. "For the good of the family, of course."
Aryia's shining eyes start to roll back. Then further and further with each explanation. So much so that the underside of her curls are highlighted by the luminosity of her eyes. "Bleh," she voices, one of the few things she can audibly say as she frowns. "Did you tell them they can shove that expection up their-"
That's a lot of colorful signs right there. Wowee. Hmm. <Handspeech>
That reaction seems to counter Aya's frown with amusement that grows the more Aryia's eyes rotate. After taking in all of the colorful, detailed, and potentially helpful list of suggestions, she is smiling. Wryly. Unevenly. "They were denied, informed their welcome had expirted, and were escorted out the door, in short order. I don't expect them back any time soon, and not with the same expectations." Her mirth is then partially vented with a sigh. "Yet, in some ways, I almost pity them. They seemed ...desperate."
The mute sister ceases her colorful explanations and suggestions as she notes Aya's expression lifting. "Good. Don't give them anything. You provide an inch, they take a whole fucking league."
A sigh leaves her, and she slowly rises to her feet. "They may be desperate, but they're going to need to reevaluate what's important to them to learn to be truly desperate," she signs, rubbing at the scar on her throat. "Besides. If my parents can cast off the noble bullshit and do it themselves, I'm sure they can as well."
She shakes her head, and looks up to the sky for a moment before settling her gaze on Aya. She smiles and holds out a hand. "Fancy a stroll?" <Handspeech>
Aya feeling pity for nobles? Defending them? Maybe this can simply be tallied as one more new thing since ... The offered hand sparks a slight brow raise. Possibly as it is open rather than closed and offered not hurled in her direction. Her smile returns. "I would be delighted."
The hand is accepted and taken. "I -do- happen to enjoy your company, sister. Even when it does not involve strikes, blocks, and counter-strikes." Hmm. Perhaps that would be two things?
Aryia laces her fingers together with her sisters. A silent laugh comes from her, and she turns to start the walk. "And I yours." <Handspeech>
A breath as they go.
"-nd - y-rs."
She gives the hand a squeeze.
-End Scene-