The New Roost

Log Info

• Title: The New Roost

• Emitter: Ravenstongue

• Characters: Ravenstongue, Telamon

• Place: Ravenstongue and Telamon's house - University District

• Summary: Ravenstongue and Telamon have a house! Well, Ravenstongue bought the place, but she's letting Tel live with her. They step into their mostly-empty house and share an inaugural meal of wine, cheese, and bread. They discuss their relationship, poetry, and language learning, as well as the upcoming meeting with Telamon's mother that might truly determine the course of their relationship. The two sorcerers also decide to work on their poetry together.

-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=- Dramatis Personae =--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-     
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                       
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-

A beautiful sunset is in the sky over the University District this morning. Ravenstongue looks immensely pleased with the view of both the sky and the new-to-her home that she stands in front of. Pothy sits on her shoulder, too, his white feathers taking on the hues of the violet-gold sunset with a brilliant luster.

"Snacks?" Pothy asks.

Ravenstongue nods. "Snacks indeed, Pothy," she says. "Just waiting for Tel to get here and we'll have a little inaugural dinner."

And speak of the devil, there he is now. Telamon comes trotting along, cloak fluttering. "Sorry I'm late, 'Lana. I was talking to some people from the Silver Chalice -- evidently someone thought my comments at the Society about astromancy were interesting enough to track me down." He rakes a hand through his hair, looking at the house. Except it's not just not a house now, is it? It's a home, to quote some long-lost poet. "This feels so new to me," he admits. "I mean, I think we can handle it, but... it's a new experience."

"That makes two of us," Ravenstongue says with a grin as she holds up the keys to the place. "I got these an hour ago once the agent's mover men came in and took all the furniture they agreed on buying. Quite a steal, really--helps that the agent seemed really eager to sell."

She gestures to the front door of the house, which has a variety of arcane symbols above the door. "Well, shall we? I kept the kitchen table and chairs, so we have a place to sit and eat."

"Snacks!" Pothy says eagerly. It makes no difference to him if there's furniture in the kitchen, so long as there's... well, there's snacks.

Telamon just laughs at Pothy. "You're a constant in this ever-changing world, Pothy." He nods to Raven, and walks with her towards the front door. Slowing slightly as he peers at the symbols over the door. "Odd. Who owned this place before us? A wizard?" While Raven's unlocking the door, he continues to study the inscriptions. "Almost looks like a ward, but not charged."

The symbols are seemingly inert. Magical inspection reveals there's almost nothing in them.

"That's what I thought, too," Ravenstongue says as she works the key into the door and unlocks it. "A mage owning this place seems about right, though, considering where we are."

She twists the knob and pushes the door open to reveal...

Well, it's a cozy little place that's now somewhat empty, as most of the furniture has been taken. "The furniture was not to my taste," Ravenstongue says, "and the agent said he could have it sold for a pretty penny to knock down the price, so who am I to turn down a good deal? We can fill it with more later."

She walks into the kitchen and sits down at a table of clearly Myrrish make, pulling a bottle of wine out from a bag that sat in the middle of the table, followed by two block of Dwarvish cheese and a fine loaf of bread from one of Pothy's favorite bakeries. "Grandfather pulled through and bought me a new bottle of wine," she says with a grin.

Telamon shakes his head. "Understandable. Although... hm. What're you looking for as far as furnishings go? The Myrrish stuff is all right, if only for the short term." He studies the table and chairs, before sliding into the unoccupied one next to Raven.

"Oooh. Your grandfather is indeed true to his word. I think father has a bottle of this he's holding onto." He inspects the label's inscription, before setting it back down and looking about. "It's always a little sad seeing a house without furnishings," he remarks. "It's like a blank canvas."

"I was thinking something with an elvish flair to it. Maybe even a fey flair," Ravenstongue replies. "After all, I am a child of the Feathered One, and this is my house--well, our house."

She blushes a little from her slip-up. "I'm also still getting used to that, too. Speaking of which... Your bedroom is over there, and mine is the one next to it," she says, pointing to two doors across the way that are, indeed, right next to each other. "Just so that we're truthful when your mother asks, because I don't want to lie to her, and I also am... Well..."

She clears her throat. "Anyway, yes. It's a blank canvas, but it's our home--Pothy, can you get the cork out? I don't even know how you got it out of the last bottle, Tel."

If only Grandfather and his magical cork-opening claws were here.

Telamon grins suddenly. "Hold on, I might be able to get this... I saw someone do this last time." He takes the bottle from Raven, and gestures while murmuring, "Sisig bursag." Then he lets go of the bottle... only for it to hang, unsupported, in midair. There's a funny shimmer there, like heat off a surface, as the cork seems to work its way out of the bottle slowly until there's a 'pop' as it comes loose.

Adroitly, Telamon reclaims the bottle, and begins pouring. "I... don't know if us sharing a bed prior to matrimony would scandalize mother or not. I know she carried on with father a bit prior to the formal arrangement, but... still, we can err on the side of caution." He passes one of the glasses to Raven. "Once things are... formalized," and here he blushes a bit, "we can turn one of the rooms into a study, or... something else."

"Wow!" Pothy says in Ravenstongue's voice as he watches the wine bottle seemingly pop itself. The potential possibilities seemed to be already swirling within his little corvid brain--snacks that could float mid-air while he ate them, perhaps? Ravenstongue seems impressed, too, judging by her little clap and giggle. But she becomes more reserved, maybe even a little withdrawn, on the topic of their separate bedrooms.

"Honestly, I'm just... Well, I'm a little scared, if that makes any sense." It's clear what she means by the blush on her face. "All I know about relationships, really, are from reading books. And some of them were, well, probably books I shouldn't have been reading as a teenager--and I know that they're not necessarily reflections of reality. I just don't know what it's going to be like and that's scary." Ravenstongue frowns. "Hopefully that's okay."

Having poured two glasses of wine, Telamon sets down the bottle. He grins at Pothy, evidently amused by the notion of using the conjured entity to toss Pothy snacks. But he sobers a bit seeing Raven's face and listening to her.

Taking a sip of wine, he looks at her patiently. "This is a work in progress for both of us, 'Lana. And yes, I'm nervous too. So I know where you're coming from." He reaches over to take her hand. "Whatever happens, we'll deal with it together." His expression becomes slightly rueful. "I had the, ah, 'talk' with father when I got old enough to notice girls. He can be very no-nonsense when he needs to be."

Ravenstongue smiles at Telamon as she listens to his reassuring words, squeezing his hand as he takes it. "Like I said when I told you about my feelings the first time around," she says, "I didn't really... get that discussion with my mother. None that I remember, anyway. Honestly, I wonder in retrospect if she didn't tell me so I didn't go and have a baby with the first pretty man of elf lineage I met."

She smirks a little at her joke. "Or she figured that I wasn't going to be meeting and kissing boys anyway as a bookworm teenager. Either way... Well, I have had to learn a lot of things for myself. This is just another thing."

Telamon shifts his chair around a little so he can wrap his arm around her. "You must've hidden away from all those boys then, because I can't imagine you not having suitors lining up to try and plead their case." He kisses her lightly, tenderly, before continuing. "Even if you did spend a lot of time reading books. But I'm glad you did read them, because I think you might be wiser than I."

He casts his eyes over to Pothy, and grins. "What say you, Pothy? Do you think 'Lana's wiser than me?"

Ravenstongue blushes, of course, as Tel kisses her. As he pulls away, she grins a bit like, well, a lovestruck fool, a familiar reaction to each of Telamon's kisses.

Pothy looks up at Telamon's prompting. He's suddenly been caught red-handed with a bit of bread in his mouth, torn off from the loaf of bread that Ravenstongue bought and clearly intended to serve with wine and cheese.

Pothy swallows the bread. Then he looks to Ravenstongue and croons, "I'm a fool for you~" in the style of some pub singer that's lost herself a little too much to what was on tap at the pub that night.

"I think he means that I lose my sense of wisdom when I'm around you," Ravenstongue says with a snicker.

Tel snorts. "At least you had some to lose. I'm not sure I have any!" He also gives Pothy an exasperated look. "Alright, hold on here..." He gestures, and the unseen servant moves to divide the loaf of bread. Most of it going to the lovebirds, but still leaving Pothy a good sized chunk. Then it begins to open and slice the cheese, as he continues, "There's nothing wrong with feeling like this. But I am looking forward to," and here he lifts her hand, stroking it, "...putting a ring on your finger." He winks at her.

Pothy looks at his chunk, which is proportionally more carbs than a bird really should have--that is, if he was merely a bird of flesh and blood, which Pothy is not. His blue eyes fill with intense longing as he looks at the bread portion that has been made for Telamon and Ravenstongue.

He covets what he cannot have. Like Maugrim, he is bound to the Hells.

Ravenstongue has no concept of Pothy's silent lament as he begins to rip at his chunk of bread. She's instead a rather lovely shade of red. "Wow," she manages to say after a moment. "Sometimes you really and truly do take my breath away, Tel."

Telamon leans close to Pothy and murmurs, "Hang in there. I didn't forget you." A gesture to the unseen servant, which glides away. Turning back to his blushing... betrothed? Close enough. He smiles, "You didn't get a lot of attention when you were younger." It's not a question. "It gets easier as time goes on, but the bad news is that you'll have to deal with me being just as breathless at times. And poetic. Do you think I should take a swing at writing poetry?"

Ravenstongue ponders the question he asks concerning poetry. "Honestly, I've been thinking about it myself," she says. "But not in the common tongue. It's too... unwieldy. It's easier to rhyme and follow a lyrical beat in Sildanyari, or, even better, Sylvan."

A smile breaks on her face. "Grandfather has a nice singing voice, by the way. At the end of the first day I spent with him, he asked to sing me a lullaby in Sylvan that he would sing for all of his children for their first night in Quelynos. I said yes and... Well, it was wonderful. It made me feel so peaceful and calm. I've had a healthy interest in Sylvan poetry ever since!"

An idea dawns on her. She looks at Tel with excitement. "What if we traded each other poems?"

Telamon nods. "Sildanyari lends itself to poetry very well. Oddly, so does gnomish, and I'm not sure why." He grins impishly. "Maybe a common ancestor there? But..." At her idea, he looks thoughtful. "That's... a good idea, actually. I like it. Poetry is after all an art form common to men and elves, and I'd like to think we're the best of both worlds."

"Do you actually know Gnomish?" Ravenstongue asks, curious. "I know it, purely because, well, it was easy to pick up after I learned Sildanyari and Sylvan. I don't really speak it much, so I probably have the worst accent--but I understand it and can read it just fine."

She takes a sip of the wine that she's neglected on account of Tel making her face just about as deep a color as the wine itself. "I think that does settle it, then. We're practicing poetry together! ...Odd thing to decide on right after buying a house, I think, but we are in the University District now." She grins.

Telamon sips at his wine as well, as he nods. "I seem to have a knack for it -- hence father's interest in me picking up his trade." He thinks. "You helped teach me handspeech, and obviously I speak tradespeak. Sildanyari and gnomish. Draconic -- it gets used as a diplomatic language more than you'd think. Khazdul and oruch, though those are generally better for technical matters -- or insults. And lucht, but I'm told I have a strange accent in that."

"You know way more than I do," Ravenstongue replies after downing more of the wine, visibly impressed with Telamon's ability to speak in so many languages. "Draconic... How'd you pick up that one? I can't imagine there are many textbooks that teach that one--ah, wait, your father probably taught you, didn't he. I imagine he knows so many!"

She sits back in her seat, setting the empty glass down. "And here I thought teaching myself four languages was a feat," she says. "Well... Three and a half. I remember mother teaching me some things in sildanyari, but I had to learn more on my own to be fluent. I taught myself Handspeech to surprise Aryia, though, and oddly enough, I'm proud of that one the most. The smile on her face was worth it."

Telamon nods. "Father insisted. It's not just dragons who speak it. It's also used by many magicians, since it lends itself well to arcane discussion. It does require a certain... mindset though. If you want, I'll teach it to you, but the language itself can be well described as 'the speech of those who sit atop the world'."

Finishing his glass of wine, he smiles at Raven. "I hope to catch up with her at some point so I can show off a bit as well. Although she was... almost disgustingly pleased when it was clear we were together."

At this juncture, the unseen servant returns... bearing what appears to be a canvas bag. The bag is set on the table, and unlaced... revealing it's full of mixed nuts. "That should keep Pothy from stealing too much of the bread," Tel comments with a grin, as he begins munching on a slice of bread with a bit of cheese on it.

Pothy is now suddenly in heaven. Bearing the dismay of not having all the bread has born unexpected fruit, and he is reaping the rewards!

Which is to say, he's shoving his face into the bag and going to town. Ravenstongue laughs at Pothy's expense. "He'll be occupied with that for a while!" she says, following Tel's lead. The cheese, surprisingly, has been left intact by Pothy--though it was surely only a matter of time before he would have gotten into it, just like everything else remotely edible.

"I'll have to think about your language teaching offer," Raven says. "Maybe that's another trade we can do--perhaps I could teach you Sylvan, so you can keep up with Grandfather. And, well, yeah... Aryia has reason to be. She asked me quite a while ago if you and I were together, before I'd really started feeling things for you, and the question was... confusing. I think she knew we were a match waiting to happen." She grins.

Telamon grins as Pothy just goes nuts for nuts. But, it'll keep him happy, and that's the important part. "I should, in theory, be able to pick it up -- Sylvan seems to be an ancestor-language of sildanyari. But a tutor would definitely be appreciated."

He looks thoughtful. "I guess she's even more perceptive than I thought. I'll have to thank her though, in some way. It's... good that we found each other." He brushes back a lock of Raven's hair, gently.

"Well, you'd have me to teach you, and Grandfather, too," Raven replies, still grinning. "I really can't think of anyone better to help teach Sylvan than a genuine fey lord, even if calling him that makes his feathers stand on end. I've gotten a lot more confident about speaking it, and he said I hardly have an accent anymore."

She flushes again as he brushes her hair back, smiling. "I think it's one of the best things to have ever happened to me," she admits, her voice a little quieter almost as if she's whispering a confession to a conspirator. In a way, she is. "Us meeting, that is."

Telamon nods slowly, his eyes meeting hers again. His arm around her, and he kisses her again. This is no peck on the cheek though, but a fairly serious kiss. One that goes on for a bit, until they break for a breather. He smiles broadly, and murmurs, "Absolutely."

Working on focusing his thoughts -- which is a bit hard to do after that -- he continues, "So. Language lessons, poetry, magic and adventuring. We seem to have planned out everything ahead of us, haven't we? So far, anyways."

Ravenstongue seems to have figured out how to breathe through her nose during a long kiss. She's flushed as they both pull away, smiling again like a lovestruck fool. "Not to mention buying new furniture and making this place our own," she says, smiling. "And marriage--but first, impressing your mother."

She sighs as she sits back in her chair again. "Everything will work out. I know it will. After all, you're by my side."

"Together," Telamon agrees. "And first we face my mother. Actually, we probably should try to get furniture first if we can... thank the gods we didn't take that old frat house. I was speaking to one of the proctors here and they may demolish the damned thing. Nobody wants it."

He laughs. "Told you that you were wiser than me."