Searching for Priskil (Larina, Stitch)

[Larina]

Priskil. The name alone caused Larina to perk up and pay rapt attention to what Stitch had to say next. She watched as the man again issued forth a soft glow from his hand, allowing her a fair look at the brilliant vortex on its back. Her eyes locked in on the light with an almost magnetic force, and even as he spoke, Larina could not help but stare at the mark. Of course. How could she have been so blind? Her mistress often mentioned having been given a gift by the goddess Priskil, but not once did Larina imagine that other people had also been given similar powers. “I-I did not realize that you were bound by her as well,” she murmured, still glancing at Stitch’s hand long after he stopped using his luminance. Inwardly, Larina chided herself at how dense she could be sometimes, especially when things were so very plain. He was tied to Lady Priskil in the same way Ilahi was, and it should have been little wonder that his display of radiance would bring forth her old mistress. They both served the same goddess. “You are like a Kelvic! You obey the wishes of your goddess, no? And your loyalty is rewarded in full through the gift she has given to you. I mean, a goddess cannot scratch you behind the ears or patch up your wounds or make you acorn pancakes in the mornings. But, ah, I understand it.” Larina gave him a definitive nod and hoped that he wouldn’t be offended that she had just related him to her own animal race. From atop her shoulders, she felt the weight of an additional garment and glanced up to see Rhuryc adjusting his own fur cloak around her smaller frame. She gave him an almost embarrassed murmur of thanks, both grateful and a bit ruffled at his concern, while she listened to Stitch’s explanation of his Auristics. Benign, though the made them out to be, she wondered what exactly he could see in different auras. And he then answered her unasked question: her hurt. She floundered for a moment, very unused to having her emotions laid bare, especially before a complete stranger. But before she could offer up a rebuttal, Stitch spoke on. Scrunching her nose, Larina mulled over Stitch’s words about her departed mistress, trying to reconcile their meaning with her woefully basic view of the afterlife. If one looked hard enough, they might actually be able to see the cogs turning in her little Kelvic mind. “She lives on, huh? In us? Maybe... she gave some of her Djed to me. I-It can do that right? Kinda split off from the core and go elsewhere. I don’t really get how, or if a human can even do something like that, but I like the sound of it. Like part of her is here.” Whether or not this was actually true, or even feasible, Larina didn’t know, but she also didn’t care. The thought gave her strength and kept her legs steady as they walked towards the barracks, a timid smile on her face that was meant for no one but herself. They made quite a spectacle plodding through the training grounds: a girl in an oversized fur coat flanked by a blind man and a blacksmith who looked like he would pounce on you if you gave him a shifty glance. The Kelvic felt a bit embarrassed for being the cause of such a sight and also for being fussed over, but the sheer gusto to which Rhuryc gave to his role as protector made her grin and silenced any of her protestations. The immediate warmth of the barracks along with the exercise of moving around the rooms helped to reinvigorate the girl and return the flush of her cheeks. She was willfully led to the sparring room and settled herself on the edge of the ring, listening to the words of the blacksmith. “Yes, I do think that Stitch may be who I was searching for.” Larina nodded and gave the blind man a half-grin before turning back to Rhuryc. “But thank you very much for your kindness too! Truly. You’ve been nothing but a help to me, and I repaid you by causing quite a scene. Ah, I’m sorry, really, for making you fret. It was never my intention to be such a burden…” Folding her hands behind her back, the girl tugged at the buckles securing her gauntlets. She would have to make up for her blunders to the both of them somehow, prove that she was not a complete lout. But not now. Lout she would stay for a little while longer, since she had now to beg for yet more scraps of their assistance. Shifting back to Stitch, her golden eyes grew wide as she went on, “I was hoping, Sir Stitch, that you might be affiliated with Priskil worshippers. Well, you are one, yes. That is affiliation in and of itself. Right. But, um, I had heard that there were many in this area who followed under the goddess, and I was wondering if you might know where I could seek them out. My mistress too, you see, was a follower of the lady of light. And I was wanted for some information regarding her…affairs.”

[Stitch]

Stitch smiled a bit to himself as he watched Rhuryc scurry to help out Larina. The blind man was a bit curious if Rhuryc was just being nice and polite, in a gentleman's kind of way... or if there was some other kind of motive behind his kindness. Nothing horrible, of course. Rhuryc wasn't that kind of man. He was more knightly than the Syliras Knights themselves, sadly enough. But was there attraction...? Stitch thought about taking a quick look at the Aura of the blacksmith, but quickly disregarded the idea. He had already pryed deep enough to into another's business today. Before he knew it, the curious Kelvic was assaulting him with a colorful array of questions. Stitch smiled brightly at her, doing his best to keep up. "Like a Kelvic...? This one supposes so." Stitch had never thought about it that way. Was he a servant? He supposed he was. Oddly enough, he liked the idea. Did Priskil think of him as a loyal servant? Stitch doubted it. The orphan had to admit though, it felt nice to be... needed. Did Priskil need him? No, certainly not. Stitch discarded the idea before he was even really finished thinking it. But maybe one day. He glanced his Auristic eyes back to the girl, refocusing, remembering that he would have to think fast and speak faster to keep up with her. Ah, wait, no, she had paused. She was thinking about what he had said about her friend. Her master, perhaps. He smiled even brighter, and nodded as she thought through what he had suggested, the blidn man amused to watch the little Kelvic think so hard. Cute. Perhaps she wasn't going to be as talkative as he had first thought. It appeared that her curiousity about Priskil had been the main driving force behind her excited and hurried words. A peaceful smile settled over her face as she finished considering the possibility of her friend's continued existance. Stitch gave her a small nod, and instead of responding to her comforting finale of the idea he had offered... he merely kept quiet. She had come to a satisfactory ending on her own, and seemed to have find some measure of peace in it. He wasn't planning on interrupting. He stood up at the edge of the sparring circle, suddenly feeling the Avanthal chill on his bare upper-half. He had forgotten it in the heat of exercise and practice, but now it nipped at him again. Mumbling to himself, he grabbed at his woolen shirt, tugging it back over his figure again. A woolen cloak also revealed itself from the woolen lump around his waist, and he tugged that up, fastening it around the neck. Cloaked and covered, the shrouded figure stood there, a serious look crossing his face as he listened to Larina's inquiry. After a short pause so he could consider his reply, he spoke, his voice firm. "Two things. First, this one has seen both of you, and trusts milord... but what about milady? This one has a variety of enemies, and is slowly learning to be a bit cautious. While this one barely ever does that out of pure mindlessness... when it comes to protecting Milady, this one will be as careful as possible. If you even began to wish to learn what knowledge this one may know... then you will have to let this one fully open you up with his magics. This one will need to see everything." He paused again, then grimaced. "Really, this one should have never been so open with his Luminance in the first place. This one just wanted to help." "And second. You are simply not ready to follow the path this one walks. This one, like said before, has many enemies. This one is willing to wade through a twisted path to reach Milady... but you? You lack the strength." He glanced to Rhuryc, speaking before the man could interrupt. "You both lack the strength." Then, he spoke again, his voice hardening a bit, his features hardening as well. It was an un-natural look on the man. "This one thinks you should look for another lead on Milady. No doubt, Milady would wish for this one to help... but this one sees in a different light."

[Rhuryc]

Rhuryc continued to listen. Of all the things he could do that was, perhaps, one of the best. Between both Larina and Stitch there was a great deal to extrapolate. Since their last encounter in Syliras the blind man had changed. He did not need magical vision to see that. From the luminance he spoke of to the gait in which he expressed through his idle meanderings, there was a subtle sway that most would be too bothered to notice. The Kelvic wanted something. Answers, maybe, and Stitch did not have them. That was the short of any of it. Talk of gods and quests bored him to no end. The business of the divine was far from the business of man, and this showed as he played vigil to the conversation. One would remark, the other would retaliate, though when acknowledge Rhuryc made light of the situation, returning the face with as much of his own that he could muster. These were not words for his musing. Larina was his current charge, yes, as with any he felt responsible for her well being, but it would only be a matter of time before she left to pursue perhaps more important goals. Talk was easy. Most of it made little sense to him. Djed? The word itself was foreign. While he knew of Priskil he knew almost nothing about the Goddess, why then, bother at all? Somehow throughout it all Rhuryc remained still. It was not until he folded his arms up beneath his chest that he reminded the other two that he was, in fact, alive. Maybe a little uncomfortable even. His opportunities to weigh in on the matter were few, and this nonsense about strength and wading paths was somehow directed at him. That caused a brow to rise. He wanted nothing to do with these proceedings. Gods be damned. With a guffaw he shifted his attention between both Stitch and Larina, head shaking to and fro. "More like the patience. Dealings with the divinity concern me no further than ensuring they stay clear of my path. I trust and honor your word, Stitch, but that light you see in sometimes reveals what isn't there." His arms unfolded and sat at his side, one hand unconsciously resting on the hilt of his blade. A nervous habit. By no means did he intend on stabbing anyone, but anyone whom knew a warrior would recognize the comfort of ones weapon. "'I'll help if I can, when I can, if there's enough cause for such concern, I'll be there. You know as much, blind man." He shot Stitch a grin. His tone was serious, but his fondness for the two shown through by nothing less than his countenance. Despite the hard, beaten exterior, was actually quite warm. "Strength be damned. I've got a sword for that. And don't you go and spout some prime wisdom at me, I've got a sword for that too." His arms returned to his chest. There was something final in that motion. Expectantly, he eyed Larina, watching the Kelvic for her reaction. He imagined she would not take the words quite so well as he.

[Larina]

“No.” The word was resolute, and its tone was tinged with a half-growl. So often had the girl suppressed the pent up animal in her chest, snubbing a very part of who she was in favor of civil company. And yet, there she stood. Her head tipped downward, her knees bent, and her eyes flickering with restrained anger. The idea of returning again to aimless drifting and lapses of despair was unthinkable. Not after a beacon of hope had been waved in her face, and the Kelvic began slipping back into her feral nature. “No. I refuse to go back to wandering in the dark.” Larina’s eyes narrowed and her voice dropped down to a low rumble, “And you are in the wrong for trying to push me there.” Wait. Stop. She would be unable to defend her position in this state, her bestial instincts working in opposition to the rational ones she so needed. With a deep-seated sigh, Larina settled down and began to carefully work through her next words. She straightened her back and lifted her head. And when she spoke, the feral edge of her voice was gone, replaced by a steady strength and confidence rarely found in the girl. Her stammering, too, had vanished, and even her diction had changed to that ill-fitting a Kelivc. “Servant of Priskil, you claim only to want to help. But when I actually petition for your assistance you deny it to me, knowing full well that it is in your power to give aid. Is this the mark of a harbinger of light? One who offers hope then refuses to give it? First you reveal Priskil’s gift to me in its fullest, and then the moment I inquire about your goddess, you close up and try to push me aside like a whelp. I am not some child to be taunted thus.” Her words were not spoken in anger, but in the reprimand of a parent. Yet she had still more to address, “I may not have the strength to walk same paths you do, but they are not the ones I wish to tread. I do not seek your goddess, but merely those who follow her name. And if this brings me in contact with your enemies and they overwhelm me, then so be it. I accept that fate over the alternative. I will not – will not – return to floundering in the darkness.” Larina’s hands were balled so tightly that she could feel her nails digging through the fabric of her gloves and into her palms. On this last point, she was resolved. And the girl would do everything in her power to see it through. Her countenance softened somewhat from its rigid determination as she looked for ways to reassure the blind man. “I understand your need for trust, Sir Stitch. And I will give you leave to find it in whichever way you see fit. Transparency is not my strong suit, but if it assuages your doubts about me, then I will be completely open. If you have questions of me, then ask them. If you need to see through my aura, then look. What you find may be marred, but I pledge to you that my motivations are pure.” There. Larina’s body wilted a little upon her conclusion. She had been so steeped in subservience and compliance that a single defiance, whether it be word or deed, large or small, was always taxing on the girl. Returning to her usual slump, she muttered in weak finality, “…R-Right.”

[Stitch]

"Don't lecture me, child." For the first time ever, Stitch dropped the 'this one', and used something less than a gentle tone. His eyes literally flashed, the man flexing and looming over the young girl, a single vein throbbing in his forehead. Somewhere or another, she had struck a nerve, and somewhere along the line, Stitch had become comfortable with showing his anger. "You speak as if I have denied you the right to see the light, but really, you have no desire to see it. From my perspective, you simply want it to guide you. You simply want to use Milady as a source of information, so you can go frolicking along to sate the thirst of your anger." His eyes flashed again, and both would be able to realize that it was a clear signal he was watching them. Specifically, Larina. His eyes had literally flickered blue for a second, signaling the Djed that had rushed to his mind. "Don't think I don't see. You are hurt, you are hurt very badly... and you seek revenge. Retribution. You seek to pacify this anger of yours. Perhaps you simply seek to have a wrong righted. I see the anger bubbling deep within you. It is mixed with hurt, but it is there. It is a dark and angry stain upon your otherwise beautiful self, and frankly, I have no desire to feed it." It was ugly. It had reared it's head when she had gotten frustrated and angry with him, yet somehow, he hadn't been surprised to see it. He should have known, with the awkward way she had went about expressing her request. It had been another piece of the puzzle that had fit perfectly into the grand scheme of whatever had happened to her. Part of him felt sorry for her... but part of him was worried. Revenge. It was such an ugly word. He had often considered it, but really, where would it get him? It seemed to be such a vile thing, something that would fester and grow within until it completely took over a person. He tried to look closer. Perhaps he was biased. Perhaps recently, he was just seeing the bad side of the coin. Perhaps her anger that she held deep inside was really there to exact a form of justice. Perhaps 'revenge' wasn't the best word to use. Still though, he didn't like it. He had a sour taste in his mouth from it all. Her anger and desperation made his stomach twist, and Rhuryc with his over-simplistic view of things made him want to reach out and pop the man on the back of the head. Silly blacksmith. Stitch lifted a hand to his head, touching fingers to the temple, a vein bulging as a result of a sudden headache. Why was he being so difficult about this? Why was this such a big deal to him? The lady just wanted help. He didn't dislike her. He had already grown fond of her, within the very first few minutes of their introduction. But... His Auristics had improved. Emotions were so incredibly obvious to him. Emotions could make living creatures into such detestable beings, just as easily as they could make one beautiful. "But sure, go ahead and speak your piece. Tell me if you are out for revenge. Tell me the whole story, and nothing but the true fact of the matter." Stitch abruptly turned to Rhuryc, and out of the blue, delivered a joke. "And you. You mule. You don't use a sword to deal with anything, last time this one checked. You simply go hopping around, head-butting whatever gets in your way." The words were harsh, but the man would be able to tell the jest behind them. "You should speak your piece too, while you can. What part do you have in this? This one at first assumed you were her henchman, but now... Why are you bringing her to this one? Do you plan to journey along with her, or are you just handing her over to me? This one doesn't recall asking for a pup."

[Rhuryc]

His brow furrowed. Why did these sorts of things always break down to such harsh emotion? Rhuryc felt a pounding in the back of his mind. First Larina snapped. That was unexpected. Timid until now, he supposed it was only a matter of time before the girl let go. A pang of regret hit him. Not that any of this was his fault. Between the cryptic exchanges and torrent of emotion it was only a matter of time before someone lost their cool. That was the last time he made a joke to ease the mood. Disregarding the heated words, Rhuryc sought the accusations within. It wrung of desperation. Maybe revenge, but he knew something about Kelvics, and this one was without a companion. That, more than anything, must have been the driving force. He had seen such trends in Atzi. The desire to bend at every whim. As the man often did he examined, twisted, and poured over what was presented. And then there was Stitch. Anger was new. And new was not always good. Rhuryc did not remain idle. As Stitch inched closer so to did he. He stepped forward, his torso twisting and aligning with the man, his eyes narrowed and ever watchful. That look. Rhuryc knew it. Man were no strangers to furious, raging tantrums, and everything about this one called for violent. It was not so much the protection of Larina that plagued his actions, but rather the cessation of something wrong. Whether his intentions alone would be enough to calm Stitch or if he had to intervene physically it did not matter, Rhuryc was prepared. Strangely, his hands never once touched his sword. Those few moments were more telling than every minute of their proceeding interactions. Stitch was human. What a relief. Rhuryc eased up as the room calmed. Good. He remained close, still, keeping himself near Larina in an effort to offer support. She would need that, he imagined. "Walls tend to give me trouble." Rhuryc shot a grin at the blind one. "You think too much. Perhaps your goddess conspired for Larina to bump into me and whisk her away to you, I care not, but my business begins and ends when I lose interest in the matter." Henchmen? He was almost insulted. Almost. Any insult directed at the man was either ignored or taken in the humor it was given. Really, pushing him to anger was like teaching a rock to fly. Some things were just wholly impossible. "And whether or not you asked for it, that." He paused, pointing at the marking on the previously exposed skin. "Seems to have tasked you with responsibility. I don't know your business, Stitch, Tyveth be damned I don't want to know your business, but if you can help, help, otherwise stop using so many petching words. I'm falling asleep over here."

[Larina]

Ah, her defiance was met with anger. This was unexpected. There was only once when she had ever witnessed a servant of Priskil become angry. The girl could no longer keep up the pretense of strength and slipped back into full submission: her frame slumped and her head tucked into her chest. Larina drew her hands under her neck, the last of her rebellion shown through the tiny fists she made in case the blind man lashed out at her insolence. Mercifully, Rhuryc placed himself in front of the girl as Stitch grew near, and she took an involuntary side step behind his back in protection. Low eyes stared unblinkingly up at Stitch while Larina listened passively to his retort, just waiting for the man to snap. All of his words about her anger and hurt she accepted with the same sedate expression on her face, her body completely locked up. She watched carefully as the blind man tore more from her being, his magic building a construct of who she was in his mind. While rattled by it before, she meekly accepted his different vision now, unable or unwilling to protest. She didn’t quite know which. Larina remained silent through the exchange between the men. And even after they had both finished their talk, the girl stayed motionless, merely staring at Rhyruc with the first sign of emotion on her face: puzzlement. So, he would leave her with the blind man soon. Had she imagined otherwise? A moment passed in almost buzzing silence as they waited for her to speak. Reluctantly, she shuffled her feet and glanced back at Stitch. A small voice crept into her throat and spoke in a hint above a whisper: “I cannot speak for the wishes of goddess. I only came for a nudge in the right direction. But-But I…don’t want revenge.” Even as she said the word, a freak surge of hostility flooded her heart and a single scene burned into her mind. The feel of her nails burrowing into flesh running hot with fear. The tension of skin as it is pulled taut by her teeth, a fraction of a second before the end. The thought made her head reflexively twitch to the left, and Larina closed her eyes tight to block the idea from spreading. Her breathed became erratic, and opening one lid she panted, “Ah. Well. M-Maybe I want it a little bit.” This was not helping her case. Larina squeezed her eyes close once more and refocused her thoughts. Why must this always be so hard for her? “But that doesn’t mean I will take revenge. I’m not exactly the smartest of humans.” Dammit. “-of beasts. But I do know devastating unrestrained anger can be. I get that. And the more violent I become the more violence will be spread. I-In general. What I’m saying is…I can control myself. Not everyone has to fight their own instincts. But I do. And I’m learning that I can.” Her voice dropped a few octaves so that only those who strained their ears would hear her, “Though it looks like I am not the only one with anger issues.” A golden gaze flickered at the blind man for a moment before quickly turning away. “I just want to understand. To understand why.” Her voice faltered, and Larina glanced at Rhuryc for some measure of assurance. “Someone murdered by old mistress, a pristess of Priskil, in our home in Syliras. I was…around. But I could not stop them. Or catch them. Or find them after. I want to understand is all. She was so good. The best. She gave me a new life: a better one than I deserve. And even more, it’s like I was a human to her. Not a pet, or even a Kelvic. A human.” A red tint spread across Larina’s cheeks and she muttered, “It’s hard to explain to someone who is human. But it meant a lot to me…To be treated as equal to someone when I am not.” The girl’s gaze turned to her feet. She had never looked quite so small. Human? Far from it. A stupid pup she was. Larina released her anxieties by tugging on the straps which secured her gauntlets to her arms. Habit. Her mind was muddled with foggy memories and wrapped with the feeling of utter foolishness. They would not help her. She could not even help herself! An idiot dog clinging to the coattails of the past in some kind of sick loyalty to someone long dead. Who the petch would care? Stuck in her mind, Larina could only dumbly repeat, “I just want to understand.”

[Stitch]

Stitch steeled himself, and stared down Rhuryc. His eyes flickered again, the light blue color sparking over clear whites. His form flexed and rippled, and even though he was a smaller man, he seemed to have no problem standing toe-to-toe with the Protector. Rhuryc used a combination of quick logic and simple humor to try and reason with Stitch, and it seemed to work. Standing face-to-face with an old friend, Stitch visibly relaxed a little bit, his clenched body loosening to slowly settle down. He continued to stare at Rhuryc though, examining him in his own special way. The only time he was distracted was when Larina spoke, and when she did, his head slowly turned so his eyes could regard her. He simply stared, watched, and studied. She explained her story, and he listened, both with his ears and his Auristics. Kelvics were such complicated beings, brimming with more emotions and complexity than most mere humans could even begin to understand. Stitch was actually surprised that he was able to discern their swirling Auras. He rarely knew how he did it. How could things be so clear, yet at the same time, so confusing? Probably because he thought too much. Yes. That was it. He was thinking too much. He quietly continued to listen to Larina, allowing her to speak her piece. He thought it through, mulled it over, tried to figure out the best path. He was suspicious of her intentions, in more ways than one. He also realized how overly protective he was of Priskil. He didn't want someone he didn't know getting too close to her. He didn't want to be the one to lead them to her, either. And then someone using him as a means for their own ends? It bothered him. Perhaps that wasn't even what she was meaning to do. Why was he so suspicious, all of a sudden? And why the anger? Why the burning anger, still deep inside of his gut? Stitch looked relaxed, but inside, he was a tormoil of emotion. Why? He was confused, angry, protective, loving, kind, wanting to help her and shun her all at once. So simple on the outside, but so very complex inside. Much like someone else he knew. His eyes turned to Rhuryc, his expression stoic. "Don't take this mark wrong. It isn't a mark of responsiblity. It is a mark of friendship. This is just a friend this one is a bit... protective of." He paused, taking a breath. "Thanks for bringing the lady. This one will take care of her. You be safe. This one will be gone within the next season, but this one doesn't know when exactly that will be. Priskil willing, this one will take the pup with this one." He gave Rhuryc a friendly pat on the shoulder, that familiar soft smile on his face. "You should open up with yourself a little more. Your simplistic nature only covers the incredibly complex layers underneath. Perhaps that is why became such natural friends. We are so alike." He stpped back, giving both Larina and Rhuryc some room, turning to the Kelvic girl now. "We will talk it over in the coming weeks. For now, you shall simply come to live with me and my friend. A nuit. This one is sure she will be okay with you staying there. But in order to bring you along, this one needs to know you. And to know you, this one is going to stay by your side for quite a while." Stitch tilted his head, shooting her that kind and soft smile that was a complete opposite of his anger before. He was like a child, who could rapidly switch between honest and genuine emotions on a dime. "Is that alright? This one promises no more tantrums. This one is just a bit... new to all this. Being a... marked one." He was speaking in puzzles again.

[Cheshire]

Character: Rhuryc Experience: Observation +3, Brawling +2, Climbing +1, Riding (Polar Bear) +1, Interrogation +1, Rhetoric +3, Intimidation +1, Philosophy +1 Lore: Riding an Icewatch Bear Character: Larina Experience: Observation +2, Interrogation +2, Rhetoric +3. Philosophy +3 Lore: Human Greetings [Basic], Luminance [Basic], Auristics [Basic], Additional Note: Great thread guys, well Rhuryc since you are the only one left. I miss Larina so much now. Anyways, Polar Bears do purr. I felt like that needed to be answered. PM me with concerns.