Scene Archives

ends up in one of the warded pools–having poked tentatively at a strangely familiar glyph on the controls, and having been rewarded with that particular feel of increased “solidity” that signifies a bubble. He sinks into it with a relieved groan, sinking down to his neck for a few minutes until the heat–carefully adjusted to be just short of scalding–drives his shoulders and chest up above the water for a while. He turns and leans on the edge of the pool, letting himself float a little, as he examines the gently glowing ward-work.

traces some of the lines of the ward-work in the air with his finger–careful not to put even a hint of gnosis into it–trying to feel the shape of it. With his finger, in his head, he redraws a couple of lines, weaving the vine-like tracery of Almachadtan warding into the angular figures of the Samudran wards. Thinking, perhaps, of how his ward and Archie’s blended–could you use both types of gnosis at once? On purpose?

: “Hmm.” He turns away and sinks back into the bath, staring up at the coralline ceiling through half-lidded eyes. A trellis…

enters into the cavernous room after navigating the elevator and scouring herself clean in the washrooms. There’s few enough people around she enjoys the opportunity to gape openly in wonder of the room, before she sees Wolf. She immediately makes a beeline for his bath, but pauses before inviting herself in. “What’s your feeling on company right now, Yeresh Wolf?”

lets his eyes focus on Salme, eyebrows going up slowly as he smiles, just a bit. “I’m wondering why you’ve decided to fall back on formality again,” he says, lazily, with a teasing tone. “The yeresh isn’t in, but if you’d like to share a tub with your friend, get in.”

raises her own eyebrows. “Well, if you’re going to be like that.” She sheds her robe and slides into the pool, dunking her head below the hot water before resurfacing with a gasp. “I hope every world has a bath like this.”

snorts, letting his eyes go heavy again, still smiling. “What? The yeresh hat doesn’t ever entirely go away, but one can put it on a peg for a while.” He chuckles. “And I also. From what it sounds like, the Beast will probably have something similar. I suppose one could simply ask Aurelius.” He gives her a sly look at that.

meets his sly look with an extremely satisfied smile and peeks over at the controls. She ups the temperature up one more tick. “You do so love Aurelius’ explanations,” she says.

laughs, closing his eyes and lacing his fingers behind his head. “Which is why you should ask him, and not me.”

considers for a moment, a long one. The easy path, or the hard one. And then she says, carefully, “He always surprises me, you know. When I ask him something. Sometimes it’s hard to understand what he’s saying, but I’m learning him, step by step.” ⁂

takes a deep breath. “I told him I didn’t want to lose him. I asked him to keep a space for me by his side. And Wolf, he said the most beautiful thing. He told me he wouldn’t promise, because he knows I’d turn that into a curse I placed upon him. Instead he asked me to trust him. That he did choose me, that he did want me, that he wouldn’t outgrow me.” ⁂

gives him a wry smile. “I know the yeresh hat is off but you are also my friend and. You two should talk, sometime, I think, and figure out how to have a conversation without wanting to rip each others’ throats out, but. I’ve already grown so much more secure in this odd three-way waltz I’ve initiated.”

she doesn’t sink down to her eyes in the pool, which is growth all on its own. 🙧

takes a deep breath as Salme starts talking, and for a moment it seems like he’s going to interject, and then…he exhales, slowly, and listens. He shifts around–oh, good, there’s a seat built into the side of the pool–and sits, water around his shoulders, and listens, intently and silently until Salme is done. ⁂

scrubs dripping hands across his face as Salme falls silent, then leans back against the side of the bath and looks up at the ceiling, eyes flicking back and forth across the coral as he thinks. The silence grows long, but not…tense. Just long. Just thoughtful. ⁂

: “He is brilliant, you know,” he says, finally. “I know that. Brilliant, and strong, and…wiser, it seems, than I may have given him credit for. I am glad of that.” He sits up a little, meets her eyes, wry and…tired. “I also very much wish that he would exercise that wisdom when he was talking to someone who isn’t you.“ 🙧

laughs. “That’s not fair. He’s very thoughtful with Awoken about a third of the time. And if he starts being sweet and thoughtful with everyone I might get jealous, you know.”

chuckles, rubs his forehead with the heel of his hand. “I am sure that there are many things he gives to you that he will never give to me,” he says, drily. Then sighs. “It is not as if I wish to be snapping at him every third sentence, you know. But he is going to hurt someone, in ways that could have been prevented, if he continues on like this, Salme,” he says, voice low. Worried. “He nearly broke Caion’s eidesis with that glib comment about Tasna. Caion’s eidesis. And yes, we were in a bubble. But that…doesn’t mean that it wouldn’t have caused harm.” ⁂

: “He is brilliant and strong,” Wolf says, leaning his head back against the tub with a bit of a thud. “And, apparently wise. Which confuses me even more. Because it seems like he should know that how he says something matters a great deal, too.” 🙧

nods sagely. “Yes, and snapping at him every third sentence is definitely helping.” ⁂

moves her hand just below the surface of the water, watching as the water raises with the displacement but doesn’t quite break. “There is a degree of irony here, considering you dropped the end of the world on us immediately when we arrived on Almachadta. You see that, right? And as for Caion, I trust him to address a problem in the making if there is a problem in the making. Do you?” 🙧

looks…irritated, more than a little, and opens his mouth to retort before clearly thinking better of the impulse. He looks down at the water, exhales slowly, and then looks up at Salme, eyes steady, though his jaw is rather set. “I am well aware that it is not fixing the problem. I do not know how to solve the problem. I am doing the best I can.” He takes another deep breath, and his eyes are less steady now, and slightly more sparking. “And I would appreciate it if you would be careful drawing equivalencies between that which was done in the desperate turbulence of learning that I still had a world to be saved, and that which is said in calmer circumstances.” ⁂

lets that hang in the air for a moment before continuing. “It was not well done. I do not deny that. But.” Another slow breath, another exhale. “I made my choice, knowing there might be ill consequences, and I accept that.” He shakes his head and looks away, jaw working. “There is also a difference between trusting someone to address a problem if they have to, and…” His shoulders slump, and some of the fire seems to go out of him. “I cannot tell what he is thinking, Salme. Sometimes I cannot tell if he is thinking about how other people will react, at all.” ⁂

He looks at her, directly, not…fiery, just…tired. “He…answers questions as if the answer is obvious. And it is not. To me, anyway.” He shakes his head again, and looks away. “I would trust him with my life in battle. I trust him with you. I do not trust him to be kind to…to ignorance.” 🙧

splashes a little water at him. Just a bit. Annoying enough that he’ll notice it, friendly enough to not get in his eyes. “Tell him that? Exactly that. If you want advice, which you don’t have to take.” And then, a little more softly, she adds, “I know you’re trying, and I don’t hold Almachadta against you. I understand why you did what you did. And you’re right, the circumstances were very different. But. I guess what I’m trying to say is … hm.” ⁂

: “You had no way of knowing my context, when you said the world was dying. But to hear that, knowing what I know? What the Sword-Saint knows? It was perhaps the most devastating moment since we began our journey. I bring it up not to hurt you, but hoping it’s instructive. And also to remind you that … you aren’t responsible for keeping everyone together all on your own. Sometimes I’m worried you think that–that you can only rely on yourself.” 🙧

blinks at Salme for a long moment–then starts to laugh. And laugh. Probably harder and longer than is entirely appropriate. He holds up a hand to forestall comment, clearly trying to pull himself together, and mostly succeeding. “Salme…agh, I’m sorry, truly, it’s just…” He shakes his head, still trying to get irrational giggles under control. “Salme, it is not that I think that I can only rely on myself.” He takes a deep breath, centering himself, so that he can look her in the eyes steadily and earnestly. “It is that I know I will need to rely on him and I do not trust that I can.“ ⁂

: “As it stands, I cannot rely on him for information, despite his brilliance. If I ask him a question, he will give me an entirely correct answer and I will nevertheless be no less ignorant than I was when I started,” he says, allowing himself just a bit of exasperation. “And while you know very well that I have no issue with honest error, I do not trust him to think of another’s wellbeing ahead of time, if he has not already decided he cares for them.” He gives Salme a bit of a pointed look at that. “If not for what you told me here, not long ago? I would not know he was capable of that, Salme. At all.” ⁂

grumbles, deep in his throat, and slumps back down into the water, until it’s nearly past his chin. “And as for keeping us all together…” He runs his fingers through wet hair, leaving it mussed. “I am a yeresh, Salme. It is what I do. I bind that which is separate together. I engender harmony and soften dissonance. I care for you. All of you. To ask me not to shepherd those I love is to ask water not to be wet. And it…frustrates…me. That I do not understand him. That I must resort to…’mother hen’.” He looks grumpy. And sad. 🙧

scoots around enough that she’s next to Wolf and can wrap an arm around his shoulders, curling into his side. “Thank you for telling me, Wolf-Brother,” she says softly. “But something that you should know about him is that he loves radiantly, selflessly, thoroughly. He cares for you, and Archie, and Unua, and Awoken too. You two are more alike than you could possibly imagine. The secret to understanding him is watching what he does, not what he says.” ⁂

gives a quiet little scoff of a laugh. “Of course, you’ll still have problems with what he says, so here’s something Sininen told me when I was first falling in love with him–that I can just ask. Aurelius loves to explain himself. Keep asking, and asking, and asking until he yields a satisfactory answer. After all, aren’t you the heart that beats, and beats, and beats and does not cease?” at this last she thuds her knuckle against his chest, smiling up at him. 🙧

sighs softly–he doesn’t yield much to the touch, at first…but slowly surrenders, leaning in, resting his chin on top of Salme’s head. “Yes, well. Perhaps he lets you see more than he lets me see. But…mm.” He laughs. “He’s a bad influence on you,” he says, entirely unseriously. “You’re cheating, just like he does. You weren’t around to hear those words.” ⁂

: “Fine,” he says, after a long moment just soaking in the touch and warmth. “I shall persist. I’ll…talk to him. Perhaps in the Library. Where it’s bubbled. Just in case.” He pulls a wry face. “Though, speaking of ‘going it alone’…” He shifts so he can look down on Salme’s face, his face and voice going carefully neutral. “You worried me, sword-sister, learning about your encounter with the Ancient One. I wish…” He trails off, and sighs. “I do not love how this world makes us be so careful with that which troubles us.” 🙧

: “Sometimes, here, I feel like I’m drowning, yes. Though it seems like you’re rather be burning beneath the scalding sun of Mu, mostly.”

goes very still for a moment, his face betraying nothing except a slow blink…melting into something that looks like chagrin but of course couldn’t possibly be. “…Unua doesn’t sleep, right.”

: “Unua?” frowning.

blinks at her, looking confused. “How else would you know? You were all still asleep when I got up. Except Unua, who doesn’t sleep.” He looks, probably quite hilariously, like a small child who’s more grumpy that he got caught than repentant about whatever he got caught doing.

laughs so loudly that if there were other people around to hear them they’d probably be startled. “Oh. Oh Wolf,” and she’s grinning. “Three things,” she says, holding up three fingers. “First,” she curls one finger down. “I saw your strange reaction when Aurelius mentioned to Caion that no one in our group was from Mu. You were troubled and I couldn’t imagine why. Second,” she curls the next finger down, “Aury added a logging system to the library and there is, strangely, only one person listed in the guestbook alone (you), and finally,”the last finger goes down and she taps Wolf on the nose. “You were Lightburned yesterday. On Samudra.”

can’t help but flicker his glance to the ceiling, eyes narrowing in annoyance for just a fraction of a second–then looks at Salme, mouth working against something that looks suspiciously like a very sheepish grin. “Ahhh…well, um, heh. In my defense, a mild Lightburn is usually so common for me I barely notice…” He clicks his tongue against his teeth, gives a very Gallic (or whatever the Almachadtan equivalent is) shrug. “I suppose there’s no way I could have accounted for a retroactive logbook.” His eyes narrow. “I assume it was retroactive, unless it was hidden? I saw nothing of the sort when I entered.” He sounds more curious than anything.

: “Okay, I also want to know who you’re looking at when you do that, but yes. It was retroactive. Aurelius was concerned anyone could get into our private space, and so he came up with a way to secure it. So yes, you were reasonably foolhardy, not swim-in-the-ocean-like-a-moron foolhardy. What I want to know is why.”

: “I’m looking at a busybody,” he says, primly. More…sheepishly: “There was something I needed to understand. Or…to try and understand.”

: “Something about the sun? Or about Mu itself? It has to have to do with Mu itself. If it was just the sun, you’d be trying to figure out the loving sun as well. Tell me?”

looks even more sheepish. “I wanted to see if I could tell why it was upset?”

: “But why? You’re usually not one to press for answers from something unwilling to give them,” her gaze is intent. She herself is not so good at minding her own business.

laughs softly. “You’d be surprised. I am a hunter, and a persistent one, sword-sister.” He shifts, a little uncomfortably–embarrassment is not a common expression on his face. “I had, ah, a dream.”

: “The contents of which you’d be willing to share?”

nods, a little, though he does shift away from Salme, just because there’s things that are hard to talk about when you’re cuddled up on someone in a very hot bath. “I dreamed that I was floating between the worlds. Listening to their songs. Drifting past them, one by one. Samudra, the Beast, Valais…and finally, Mu. And there, on Mu, I…saw someone. Like a monster or a metahuman, though not of any form I’d seen before, and…” He rubs the back of his head, pulling a wry face. “They were…sad? Very sad. And it…upset me?” He can’t quite meet Salme’s eyes, and he’s smiling a little uncertainly, like he’s not sure it’s the correct expression. “So, I, ah…called out to them.”

relaxes away from Wolf so he can have his space, and clicks the bath temperature down a little bit. “And did you hear anything in response?”

: “Not…really? But I think, ah…they heard me.” He smiles, faintly, at nothing in particular, soft and warm. “No, I’m sure they heard me.” He catches himself smiling at the water and clears his throat. “Then the sun got angry and threw me out of the dream. So, I…” He laughs, a little. “It’s very silly, honestly. But I thought that…if I could understand that sun better now, then I could have answers waiting to…help them. When we got there.”

: “When we’re done, remind me to show you the pamphlet again. The one Aurelius–bargained for. There are some entries for people from Mu. Maybe one of them is your dreamer.” She considers him. ⁂

: “You’re changing too, you know. Becoming more yourself, refining yourself, however you want to think about it. And isn’t that strange? To do things that you might never have done before, but still feel like you?” 🙧

thinks about that, then laughs, looking almost confused. “But how is that different than any other day? I used to be a child, and now I am not…but I can tell you that I never felt like a child. I was always me. And I still am.” He smiles a little. “We stand where we stand by virtue of the road we walked to get there. We always build ourselves, day by day.”

: “Some of us,” Salme says archly, “held ourselves in stasis for years and most certainly weren’t building ourselves, day by day. To wit–you think Aurelius is a bad influence on me, but I’m the one who’s always been a cheater and a liar. I’m just letting you see it more clearly now. I’m remembering how to be myself, whoever she is.”

she shrugs back against her side of the wall and lifts her feet out of the bath to cool down a bit.

smiles gently, laughs, shakes his head. “That’s the thing, to me…” He braces his hands against the edge of the pool and pushes himself smoothly out of the water, sitting for a moment on the edge, skin steaming in the cooler air. “To me, you were still building yourself. You were just trying to build something resistant to change. Something you thought you had to be. And now you’re trying to build something else. A dam across a stream is still built, after all.” ⁂

: “You have always been you, Salme, and you have never been this you before.” He grins, unapologetic about the paradox. “And…come now, sword-sister. If I truly thought he was a bad influence on you…you’d know.” 🙧

laughs and hauls herself out of the bath as well, combing her fingers through her wet, tangled hair. “Fair enough. I just don’t like it when he gets all the credit for having bad ideas or cheating at this story we’re telling.” She looks up at the ceiling, frowning. “Is that … busybody you talk to sometimes–a voice? Sometimes it describes things and sometimes it … has opinions?”

looks distinctly amused. “I shall make sure that in the future, I assign appropriate…blame.” He grabs a cloth he’d left by the edge of the bath and starts toweling his hair dry, though the rest of him is still dripping, and his feet are still in the bath. His face takes on a very wry cast at the question. “It’s a something, certainly. I try not to pay too much attention to it. It encourages it.”

goes very still for a moment, expression somewhere between resigned and annoyed.

raises an eyebrow. “Oh. That must be very annoying for you,” she says to Wolf, with sympathy.

: “Half of Whisker-Clan, a dreamer on Mu, and this? Wolf were you this popular on Almachadta as well?”

: “Some of us,” he mutters, to no one in particular, “Are actually surprisingly comfortable with uncertainty, you know.”

makes a very grumpy face at Salme. “And don’t you encourage it.”

pauses, the pamphlet she borrowed (stole) from Aurelius half drawn out of her discarded robe. “So do you … want to look at this?”

looks at it for a long moment, then smiles, and shakes his head. “Not…yet.” He looks out at the light that filters through the water, and his smile turns soft and warm again, like the kinder sun. “I think, for the moment…however silly it may seem…I’d rather not know. Not yet.” He looks at Salme, still smiling a little. “See? Even I can be a fool.”

: “That’s not foolish, Wolf. That’s walking bravely along the untold path.” She pauses, and then kicks some water up at him, grinning in challenge.

: “Goodness knows I try.” He laughs, ducking away from the splash. “Hey now!” He gets fully out of the pool, starts to dry himself off, pauses. “Salme? Thank you. For showing me that which I could not see.”

looks up at him, kicking her feet slowly through the water. “You’re welcome, Wolf. You are, after all, the one who encouraged me to be more willing to look at that which makes me scared.”

smiles a little. “First, we must cast out fear,” he says. “For what it’s worth…it’s a lesson I never stop having to learn.”